Strange Relations
by Aladailey
Summary: Syrmé Carr is the daughter of Princess Organa—Skywalker and Leo Carr. She learns a secret that had existed between her father and mother. So she does what teens do best: she runs away. [COMPLETED]
1. Chapter I

**CHAPTER ONE**

My name is Syrmé Carr. I am fifteen years old, and a Jedi (well, almost). After making that introduction statement, I will proceed to go a little more in depth about myself.

I live on a moon called Yavin IV with my mother, my father, and my uncle - who lives with his family a few houses down. My uncle, Luke Skywalker, is a Jedi Knight - the first since the start of the Republic. I wasn't even alive yet when that happened, but it was rather recent - about a year before I was born (imagining my uncle and my mother sixteen years younger is strange, I tell you). My mother is Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker Carr - yes, she has a freakin' long name, and it pisses me off sometimes. She was the princess of the late Alderaan, her adoptive father was Bail Organa, her real father was Anakin Skywalker - or the infamous Darth Vader, that fact still gets me sometimes - and _my_ father's name is Carr. I still do not understand why all of us women have to take our husband's or our father's names - but whatever. My mother is thirty-nine now, as well as my uncle, and she's as stubborn as a rancor. Everyone tells me I can get more stubborn than her, sometimes, which I firmly do not believe. Anyhow, it would be her fault, since I get none of that stubbornness - or lack thereof - from my father.

Don't get me wrong, I love my father - Leo Carr - but he easily frustrates me. The guy can't make his own decisions, and he is as bland as... well, I don't know, but he's pretty personality-less. Also, he gets overly worried when discussing my speeder-bike races and gets concerned when I take ships out and fly them around. Sure, I suppose I'm rather reckless, but all in good fun. I was taught by Luke, anyways, who says I'm a natural, so my father needn't worry.

When I compare my father and my mother, I realize that I inherit close to nothing from him. I get my so-called stubbornness from mom, as well as my eye shape and color, my nose is my Uncle Luke's, but I, frankly, have no idea where my mouth, my hair color, _or_ my height comes from. My mom's mouth has a sort of pouty lower lip, slightly bigger than her upper lip, and my dads are sort of thin, while mine are just full. And round. And each about the same size, too. My hair color is that of a lightish-brown... well, perhaps that is a mix between my mother's dark and my father's blonde. I wouldn't know, I don't pay attention in the science classes at the Academy that much. My height is a whole different story. All of them are short. My whole family. My father is only a bit taller than mom - which isn't saying much - and I am about two inches short of my father's and Luke's height.

Also, not to brag, but I am quite a good Jedi. Considering that my uncle is Luke Skywalker, that's no surprise. I must say, I excel with the lightsaber, but I'm also quick with a blaster - something that makes Luke laugh, for some reason. My only weakness is science and the fact that I tend to get a little arrogant. I am pretty good at everything else, though - lightsabers, history, Force theory, meditation (well, I suppose I can work on that - I just can't seem to sit still, and its pissed off Luke more than once) and I'm the best in the Academy when it comes to dealing with ships. Not to be cocky, or anything.

Today is one of the days of the week that Luke allows his students to relax and meditate, and just walk around. Most students live in dorm rooms, but, since my family is here, I just live at home. Well, it could be argued that I live at Luke's house, but since I sleep at my house, I suppose I can call that my home. Luke's house is just so much more fun - its centered deep in one of the forests, and my little cousins are running around and screaming everywhere while my Aunt Mara yells at them and her husband playfully. My house is just dull: I am an only child, and my mother is into politics - something I can't stand - while my father enjoys his research. Unlike Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, their relationship is dead. I can't remember the last time they kissed, or shared a hearty laugh. They tolerate each other fine enough, they get along, they sleep in the same bed - but that's about it. It worries me sometimes, but I'm so busy that it doesn't usually enter my thoughts unless I'm laying awake at night, looking through my window at the sky lit up with bright stars, the tropical, dense air seeping its way through the light curtain.

During those times, I think about many things - various scenarios; exciting, adventurous scenarios, like what I hear mom and Luke talking about. They did the craziest things when they were younger, and were two prime members of the Rebellion - they are already _in_ the history holobooks, which is a reason why I like history so much. Sometimes I read - ancient mythology, novels, or yet more history. I love reading about the Rebellion, the Death Star, and all those things. I personally know almost everyone from those times. Almost. Some are dead, some are gone, and some are just stuck-up.

Well, back to today. It is midmorning. I had just finished arguing with my mother - this time, over my hair. She keeps insisting on braiding it, while I enjoy it down or in a low ponytail. We get into the stupidest arguments, but now I am off sulking in my room after an unsuccessful attempt to get dad to side with me. I sigh, then walk out of my room after five minutes of being sullen. I have better things to do with my time.

"Syrmé." calls my mother's voice.

"Yeah?" Hopefully it was not a continuation of the hair argument. She walks out, her own dark brown flecked with gray hair tied with braids.

"Going anywhere?"

"To work on my ship." I answer. Uncle Luke, for my birthday, had given me an old X-wing from the Rebel days. It was broken down, and I enjoyed starting to fix it. Just then, although, I see something flicker across my mother's eyes. I don't understand it. Did I hurt her somehow?

"Is something wrong, mom?" I ask, frowning lightly. She looks up at me, sharply.

"Of course not. I was just... never mind." She reverts to a different subject, and gives me a smile. "I don't understand my brother sometimes. He's all about moving forward and then he gets you an X-wing. A broken one, at that."

I grin at her. "That's Luke for ya." I said, sauntering out and toward the side-house, where I keep my ship. I climb up the ladder and into the cockpit, noting the blaster marks, and various small things about the ship that needs to be done. In the cockpit, I look at the broken data screen and a few chipped buttons. This thing was gonna take a lot of work, but I'm confident that it would get done. In time. I knew many other people doubt this - including my mother, who seems to sigh dismally whenever I talk about my progress on it at dinner. I absently run my fingers over a chip in the metal part on the underside of the seat, subconsciously noting yet another problem. Suddenly my fingers run over something strange. I frown, peering downward. Metal, again, but a different kind; loose, but stuck. Maybe not stuck, but... held. I can't explain it, so I turn around in the cramped compartment to study the bottom. It is dark underneath, but I shut my eyes, letting the Force see for me.

Huh. An old holochip. That's interesting.

Its maybe seventeen, eighteen years old. I put my fingers on either side of the little compartment that held it - a strange place, I might add, to keep a holochip - and snap it out, with some difficulty after getting past the rust. I study it for a moment, straightening in the compartment and hopping out quickly onto the ladder, jumping the last four steps down. I walk to my house again, slowly, turning the chip over and over in my fingers. I jog up the steps, absently jabbing the pad next to the door, walking in as it hisses shut past me. I look around for my mother, before finding her in her office, typing into her computer terminal. She smiled at me as I cross the room, pulling up a chair beside her.

"What is it?" she asks, peering at me, interested.

"Look." I answer, holding out the tiny chip to her. She takes it, studying it with her fingers as I had done.

"Where did you find this?" she asks, looking up thoughtfully.

"Under the seat of my X-wing."

My mother laughs. "Good gods..." she mutters, shaking her head, flipping on and watching a dusty, slightly blue light spring from the little lens. Two people, in orange flight suits and white vests, holding white helmets under their arms.

"Oh my..." my mother started, amazed, but she's interrupted with the audio of the recording.


	2. Chapter II

**ccp:** Now, if I tell you, it wouldn't be very fun, would it? xD  
**Saber Girls: **You'll find out about Han in this chapter.

**Note: **I forgot to say this, but this is my first time - ever - trying out first-person/present-tense. Bear with me, please, I'm trying my best.

Also, considering the grammar mistakes... I frankly have no idea what happened there. After attempting to fix it ( stupid QuickEdit 2.03 ), I've realized thatI've gottah capitalize the parts that they say with inflection - and I hate doing that. Gaahhhh... x.x

Oh, by the way, I won't be saying anything about the story from this point on.

**

* * *

CHAPTER TWO **

_"This is my fifth year of the Rebellion - " started a young, male voice. "And it is as cold as hell, here. We have arrived at Hoth less than a week ago - right, Wedge? Right."_

"Who is that?" I ask, grinning, seeing my mother laugh.

"Wes Janson in the background - and that's Wedge Antilles - " she points at the man on the right. "And - look - its your Uncle." she grins, pointing at the short blonde boy on the left.

_"Janson, I doubt that 'cold as hell' is an appropriate term to use here. Personally, I would welcome a drift of hell on this iceball."_

_"No one cares, Wedge. Now, in case I die, freezing, in my bed tomorrow, I would like to leave this as a contribution, and I shall have all of my numerous friends here with me. See? Luke and Wedge - I'll be joining soon, don't fret - aha! Here comes Dodonna! Come here, General, join us!"_

_"Over my dead body, Janson." _

_"Ah, I don't like that guy that much anyways." A pause. "Hey, guys, I think we should scat, he's coming - "_

_"Who?" asked Luke, turning his head in the holo, a look of mortal terror crossing his face. "Ah, I see, yeah, lets go..."_

_"YOU STAY RIGHT THERE!" shouted a deep, extremely angry voice._

_"Captain Solo!" came Janson's voice, pleasurably. "Nice to see you're well."_

_"'Well'?" the voice was much nearer now. "You call 'well' comin' back to an empty ship, expectin' a warm meal on this ice block, only to find a gift of ration bars and zero blankets? With all my clothes missing? And THIS?"_

_"My helmet! Wherever did you find - "_

_"Don't give me any damned crap, Janson, I want my stuff back."_

_"We didn't do anything!"_

_"Like I'd believe that."_

_"Hey, I have a great idea - "_

_"If it involves me participatin' in this little holo-fest of yours, I'm out. I wouldn't join you whining, snotty idiots even if I weren't so mad at you for takin' my stuff."_

_"Han!" came Luke's voice. "This is supposed to be something _nice_ to look back on - "_

_"Shut up, kid, I don't want any of your goody two-shoe Jedi crap - "_

_"That wasn't Jedi wisdom, Han."_

_"Like I care. Give me my stuff." Both pilots in the holo point somewhat to the left, towards Janson. _

_"JANSON!" roared the man's voice, again._

_"Hey, don't get mad at me - get that thing away from me - I did it for the greater good!"_

_"Yeah?" the sneer was apparent in his tone. "What greater good when it comes to dealing with y'all's supply runner's blankets? I don't have to do this, you know, I can leave whenever I want..."_

_"Ah, come on, we just gave them to - "_

_"Solo!" screamed a furious female tone. _

_"Another famous argument. This has got to be recorded." came the young Luke voice._

I watch, startled, at the newly formed image of a tall man in blue slacks, a long-sleeved white shirt, and a black vest pointing a blaster at Wes Janson, whom I knew the older version of.

_"Oh, great..." muttered the taller man, holstering his blaster. "Yes, your Highness? Of what service may your humble servant provide you today?"_

_"Cut the crap, Solo." said the female, newly appearing into the image, as Wes Janson backed up after taking his helmet from Han, who was turned toward the woman._

I jump and laugh as the woman entered, and as she glared upwards at the Han Solo man. She was small, petite, and she was wearing a white snowsuit and had her long brown hair in a ridiculous fashion of braids. Nonetheless, she was beautiful. But furious. And I know the fury all to well. The man, Han Solo from what I guessed, bore down on her, just as angry. I got a better look at him. He had light brown hair, with a strong build. Even from here, and with the fuzz of the picture, I could tell that he was extremely good-looking.

_"WHY_ _is all of your stuff in my room?" asked my mother. "Have you decided to move in?"_

_"What the hell are you talking about, Worship?"_

_"I'm saying, you incompetent, arrogant mercenary, that all of your clothes and sheets are dumped at the entrance of my room!"_

_"Watch who you're callin' incompetent, Highnessness, because I swear that I'll - "_

_"You'll what, Solo? Throw your giant nerf slipper at me?"_

_"That's Chewie's!"_

_"Uh-huh."_

_"I'm not any more happy with my stuff being dumped in a prissy Princess' room than you are!"_

_The woman's cheeks went red and her eyes flashed dangerously. _

_"Well, then get it out!"_

_"Don't order me around!"_

_"It's my room, I can do as much _ordering_ as I want!"_

_"It's my stuff!"_

_"What do I care?"_

_"Well, if you want it out, you're gonna have to ask nicely or bring it out yourself!"_

_"No, I don't! Get it the heck out of my room!"_

_"What if I don't wanna?"_

_"What do you mean, 'you don't want to'? You _want_ to be freezing at night? Fine, I would rather have your blankets anyway, as payback, and then I'll store the food in the corner and take your shirts and rip them up and burn them for fire - " Han, then, pushed his hand against the Princess' mouth, looking back at the now disappeared Janson as the woman glared at him nastily. _

_"What the hell did you put my stuff in her room for?"_

_"She seemed cold!" came the voice._

_"**I** seemed cold!"_

_"You won't even give up your stuff for Leia?"_

_"Why the hell would I do that? Ice Princess is doing perfectly fine in her natural habitat - OW!" his hand jerked away from the woman's mouth, as he glared at her. "What the hell was that for?"_

_"'WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?'?"_

_"Whoa, you cussed, that's a fir - " He was silenced by a good, hard slap, and the woman stormed out of the image. _

You _are going to get my crap back into the _Falcon_." he said, pointing at where Janson supposedly was, before storming off as well. "I'm not finished with you, yet, Worship!"_

_"Go to hell!"_

_"Gladly, it's a lot warmer than where I'm at now..."_

_The holovid shifted again, and in came the view of Luke and Wedge, sitting on the ground while observing the scene, with Janson rushing in with his newly re-acquired helmet._

_"And you - the viewer, whoever that may be - have just witnessed one of the infamous arguments between the Princess Leia Organa and Captain Han Solo."_

_"I must say, Janson, this was one of their better ones." said Wedge. "I think this falls into the top five." _

_"I dunno, Wedge, you didn't hear them on the _Falcon_ on the way here... Chewie and I had to hide in Han's quarters under fear of losing our hearing."_

_"Whatever, it was great. Well, that was a day of our typical Rebellion." said Janson. "And remember - we're fighters for justice, and, above all, _peace_." All three of them grinned, and Luke got up, and the last image was the hand of Luke Skywalker reaching over the holovid._

Mom and I are silent for a while, staring at the chip. I glance over at her. What shocked me was that she had silent tears streaming down her face. I hadn't noticed, being too concentrated on the holo.

"...Mom...?" I say, tentatively. My mother looks over at me, pools of tears swimming in her deep brown eyes. I have seen her cry before - but I could sense that, as of now, she is in grief.

"Its okay, babe, it's just - " she pauses, glancing over at the chip. "Memories, is all..." she mutters.

I venture out a question. "Who was that man? Han Solo?" I search my memory. "I never met him before... I've heard of him, his name appears in the holo-books sometimes. But he was a part of the Rebellion. How have I not met him?"

"He was a smuggler that joined the Rebellion." my mother says shortly. "He died, while I was pregnant with you."

"Is that all?"

"Drop it, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Why?"

"Because. I'm busy."

Now, I'm quite sure that she had made that excuse up on the spot, but I'm not about to push her buttons for fear that she might explode like she did in that holovid. I felt slightly hurt, thinking that my mother couldn't talk to me, and I shut the door on the way out as another tear ran down her face.

So I decided to head over to Luke's, confident that he would satisfy my curiosity. I was curious because I have never seen my mother get so upset over a stupid holovid. There has to be some background to that story, and her reluctance to tell me about this Solo.

* * *

My speeder bike burst from its tropical clutches and into a clearing, where two children played with fake lightsabers made out of metal and I could see Mara, watching them and correcting them. She doesn't even look around at the roar of my speeder bike, she just waves as I hopped off and took off my helmet. 

"Hey Aunt Mara." I grin, jogging up the steps, and leaning over and kissed her cheek.

"Hey Syrmé, where're you off to?"

"Uncle Luke. I got a few questions for him."

"Isn't this your day off?"

"It has nothing to do with school."

"Oh. Well, he's in the kitchen. Or his study. I dunno, somewhere in the house."

I grin. "Thanks for the help." I said, letting the door slide open as I walk in.

"Uncle Luke!" I cal.

"Yeah?" comes his voice.

"Where you at?"

"Kitchen!" he calls back. Aha. So Aunt Mara was correct. I walk in, where he is eating some sort of fruit that I really don't care to have the name for, and I sir down on a chair. "What is it?"

"I have a question. Mom refuses to answer."

Luke looks at me thoughtfully, turning. Suddenly he seems slightly guarded, and sits down across from me.

"Yes?"

"Who was Captain Han Solo?"

Luke physically jumps at this question, and there's no doubt that he's guarded this time. Now I'm curious. Him and Mom both?

"Why?" he asks, quickly. I stare for a second before answering.

"Because... I want to know...? I know you guys were friends - or, I think you were - but him and mom hated each other, from what I infer - " I stop at the look on his face. This is getting too weird.

"From what you infer? What are you inferring from? How do you know about him?" I frown, and I know I have an affronted look on my face.

"Jeez, I just wanna know. I found a holovid chip in my X-wing and it had vid with you, Wes, Wedge, mom, and this guy in it on Hoth."

Luke relaxed, leaning back.

"What's the big deal? It was just a question... I mean, Mom just told me to drop it after we finished it - "

"Do you have it with you?"

"No. It's in Mom's office. Why?"

"Just wondering."

I look at him strangely. "Anyhow, it seemed to upset her. I noticed afterwards that she must have been crying during the whole thing."

Luke peers down at his hands, also looking sad - but not surprised at all.

"Luke. What's going on? I mean, I already knew _about _him, he's in the holobooks, but I don't know him. Mom told me he died when she was pregnant with me."

"That's... true."

"...And...? Can I know any more about this guy? Was he your friend?"

Luke smiles softly at me, and I knew right there that I would get what I wanted to hear.

"Well..." he sighed. "Han Solo was a smuggler." _I knew that._ "He flew Obi-Wan Kenobi and I from Tatooine... he helped rescued your mother from the first Death Star." he smiles weakly. "He brought us - Leia, the two droids, and I (as you know, Ben died on the Death Star) - here. To Yavin, where the base was at the time. As all the fighters and I were getting ready to fight the Death Star, Han was getting ready to leave. I was upset - I had gotten to know the smuggler very well on the voyage. Even Leia was upset, I knew, even though Han and her were at each other's throats constantly. He was a good pilot, and he seemed like he was turning his back on us to pay off some old debts for the Hutts. Han left with his copilot, Chewbacca the Wookie, with a large sum of credits, back to Tatooine. I and the other pilots took off into space, and started to engage in battle around the Death Star. Many of us were killed, there were only a few left. I was flying down the trench, and I had flipped off my targeting computer, letting the Force guide me until I got to the exhaust port. Wedge was unable to help with the three TIEs - including my father, Darth Vader - on my back, because his X-wing was damaged. I was alone, but I was close to my destination. But, then again, I also knew I was seconds away from being blown into oblivion." He pauses to smile at the memory.

"But Solo came back?"

"Yes. At the right time, as I was about to be shot at, I heard a large crash behind me, and I knew one TIEs had lost control; another was shot, and Darth Vader's spun away. I suddenly heard a loud whoop - accompanied by some roars - over the comm. And I'll never forget these words: 'You're all clear, kid, now lets blow this thing and go home.' Han had come back out of hyperspace, shooting one TIE, the other stopped paying attention, knocked into Vader, and crashed as Vader spun off into space. I shot the torpedoes - and there we go. The victory at Yavin. Without Han, none of us would be alive now. Most of the credit is give largely to me - but I owe it to him. Everyone does." he said, quietly, more to himself. I pause a moment, digesting this all in.

"How did he die?"

Luke shakes his head. "...I don't know. No one does. He left on his ship - the _Millennium Falcon_ - one day and... just didn't return. We tried. For three years we tried to contact him. But the communication signal was dead. Han... well, he was reckless. At one point during the Rebellion, he flew your mother into an asteroid field trying to escape the Imperials. My only guess was that... he crashed, or was hit by an asteroid, or boarded by pirates. The galaxy is a huge place - we have no idea where he may be, it could take decades to find a trace of his ship. Leia and I were devastated." Another pause. "Your mother and Han became extremely good friends, even though they still argued all the time."

"Really? When did this happen? Because the argument I saw while they were on Hoth was brutal."

Luke grins at me then. "Nah, they liked each other then, too. Both were just too stubborn and pig-headed to show it."

"You're kidding."

"I'm completely serious. Besides, Han was always threatening to leave, and was always teasing Leia with names such as 'Your Worship' and 'Your Highness'. Sometimes he would combine them or add strange suffixes." Luke said softly, looking down at the table - not intentionally - with a small smile on his face as he reminisced at these thoughts. I would bet anything that he could probably meditate at this, seeing at how calm and relaxed he was. "Then your mother would shoot at him 'mercenary', 'flyboy', and a favorite was 'scoundrel', which occurred a bit later. I also seem to remember 'stuck-up half-witted scruffy-looking nerfherder'..."

I laugh, knowing my mom's strange homemade nicknames all too well.

"Never heard that one before."

"Of course you haven't, she doesn't say any of them anymore."

I frown, thinking back to my mother and... her grief after Solo had arrived in the hologram.

"He was a good friend, wasn't he?"

"One of the greatest. Once you got him to like you, which I admit took a while, especially with that crazy Wookie roaring at you if you pissed either of them off."

I think back to the holo. The name clicks. "Chewie?" I inquire.

"Yeah. Chewie was great, though. Just like Han, you had a friend for life once you got to know him."

I am silent for a moment. "I'm sorry he died, Uncle Luke. I would have liked to have met him."

Luke frowns, and I could feel a wave of sadness through the Force.

"I'm sure you would have. I'm sorry he died, too." Luke looks back up at me. "Promise me you won't mention this conversation to your mother?"

_Would even I be that stupid?_

"I swear it."

"Knew I could count on you. Now get your rear out of here, I'm going to meditate."

"_After _you stuff your face?" I grin, dodging the half-eaten fruit thrown at me and twisting out of the door. I jog outside, waving at Aunt Mara who was still critiquing her toddlers' fighting, and hop onto my speeder bike.

On the ride home, I start thinking about the conversation Luke and I just had. I thought of that figure I had seen at a distance in the hologram, finding it had to imagine that him and my mother got along. I could imagine him and Luke - when they had talked for that brief second, they seemed playful, but my mother had actually _slapped_ him. It was probably a stressful day for her.

Then another thought strikes my head: if he was such a great friend, why did my family never mention him before? Not even Aunt Mara, who must have known him for at least a little bit before he died. My mother had known a lot of people who are currently dead - including her whole planet - but she can talk about the late Alderaan and yet she never mentioned Han Solo before. This baffles me. I thought talking about those who are deceased was supposed to ease their passing. Perhaps they had been friends, and he did make a contribution from what Luke told me. Did he leave in anger? That may have made my mother a bit distraught, but I wouldn't have thought to this extent. And if they spent _three years_, as Luke had said, searching for him, wouldn't have I remembered that? Or is my memory _that _bad? Still mystified by all of this, I pull into my yard and worked the rest of the day on my new (old) X-wing.

* * *

I'm satisfied with my progress tonight. I had managed to at least make it look a bit better, and now it gave signs of attempting to start up before the engine sputtered and died - it was an improvement because it used to just sit there. I am covered in grease and my own sweat - gross, I know - but I couldn't resist going into the kitchen and grabbing some water and plain bread - it sounds bland, but for some reason I love plain bread. I sat munching, leaning casually against the counter, staring around the silent and bleak kitchen. I sighed as soon as I finish with my snack, wiping my dirty hands on my old dark pants that I put on while doing rough work, and head straight for the 'fresher where I look forward to a long, hot water shower. 

I stop as I hear my father's voice uttering a strange phrase from his study, where there is a door slightly ajar.

"I love you too..." I stare. Was my mother in there? I approach the crack in the door, peering in, interested.

I am shocked and horrified to learn that my mother _isn't_ in there. A quick Force check tells me she isn't even in the house. My eyes went wide, and I push the door open an inch or two to allow better view of the room.

My dad's back is turned toward me, and he is looking on the table where his holocomm is, and my heart dropped to my stomach as I saw a woman. No, the woman is not my mother. Yes, she is blonde and young and beautiful. Probably around thirty, which makes me feel sick. I back out of the room as gracefully and quietly as I can, backing into the 'fresher and letting the door hiss close, as I pound it with my fist. I receive no relief from my anger and hurt, just an extremely sharp pain on my right hand.

"Gods damn - " I start sharply, shaking my hand in an unsuccessful attempt to numb the pain.

I strip down, turning on the water shower and almost tripping as I step in.

Hopefully I would drown.


	3. Chapter III

**Saber Girls:** Can't answer... can't answer ( xD )... there's one I can answer! See! - points - Update! And thank you, and I already made a statement about that weird grammar italicized crap. --;  
**soggybread: **Thanks. And, hmm... it seems you have your own name for Leo Carr. xD  
**peach:** Here's more.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER THREE**

The next week passed by in a sort of blur. The idea of my father -_ my father_ - having an...

No. It is an misunderstanding.

I doubt that.

It is more of a false source of hope. This 'convincing' of myself doesn't work too well, anyways, so I wonder why I am wasting my time.

I may as well just say it. State it. Admit it.

My father is having an affair.

On my mother.

With a thirty year-old blonde.

On my mother.

Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker _Carr_.

Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker.

I need to meditate.

* * *

Okay, so the meditation didn't work too well. I am too worked up. Luke is noticing. Everyone is noticing (especially the man I call father, who I am being irregularly hostile against. But not purposely. It's not my fault, he's the cheating ba - Never mind.), even though I insist nothing is wrong. They all know me too well. I am too quiet, and I believe that I am spending too much time on my X-wing to convince them that everything is fine and dandy.

On a lighter note, the X-wing is looking awesome. It may not look like much, but its got it where it counts. It works; I flew it yesterday. All my concerns were left on the ground at that time, but they met me there as I landed.

But Luke, earlier today, suggested that I name it. So that may take my mind off the more heavier issues in my life. But it's hard for me to think of good names, things like _Blonde Beauty_ and _Deceiver_ keep popping into my head.

And the damn X-wing doesn't even have any damn yellow on it anyway.

I have made a decision. I am going to go tell my mother.

She deserves to know.

I wonder how long this has been going on. Considering the reaches of my parents' passionless marriage, it hit me that this _affair_ may have been going on for years and years. How did I not find out. _How has my mother not found out yet?_ Maybe she has an idea, but she's in denial. I hate to do this to her... but its necessary.

She deserves to know.

I walk into my house, blindly and numbly making my way to my mother's office. I got there much too quickly, in my opinion, and my mother peered under her arched eyebrow at me.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asks me, quietly, her eyes swimming with sudden concern as I make no attempt to his my disrest.

Damn her Force-sense.

I sit down, hesitating, and avoiding her eyes; I look everywhere: the datapads on her desk, the little still-holo of Luke, her and I, and I start to fidget with a loose thread on my long sleeve.

"Mom, I - " I pause, unsure of how to put this. I decide to say it bluntly. "I think - I mean, I know, I saw - erm..." I take a steadying breathe, subconsciously calming myself with the Force. "Daddy's having an affair."

I brace myself as I watch my mother, and she frowns at me, slowly setting down her datapad.

"You know?" she asks, softly.

My mouth dropped open. Then and there.

"_You do_?" I ask, my voice getting unnaturally high.

I saw my mother sigh, her eyes casting down for a moment before peering at me.

"Honey, I know you already probably know this, but your father and I... we don't love each other."

Okay, I already know this, but to hear it out loud... before I knew it, I was on my feet.

"_You know he's having an affair_!" I yell. "And you don't care!"

"Now, listen here, let me explain - "

"_No_! If you don't love him, why did you marry him! If you know he's _cheating_ on you, why don't you just divorce him?"

I already know the answer to that. My mother is a political figure, and divorce would cause unnecessary scandal. It is much easier to let them both do their own thing. Easier on me, too, I suppose that is a factor.

"I - " My mother stops, suddenly unsure. I know that something big is about to come out of her mouth. Her tone dropped as she uttered her next, unbelievable, disarming words. "Baby, I got pregnant with you." she whispers. "I had to marry your father - the galaxy doesn't take to unwed mothers too easily."

I am at a loss for words. I am the cause of this. My mother's and father's unhappiness with each other. I am the cause of, ultimately, my fathers affair and my my own unhappiness.

This is my fault.

I slowly start shaking my head.

"I may as well never have been born! You would have had a much better life - "

"Syrmé!" My mother suddenly was standing was well, and I saw her eyes flash brightly and dangerously. "How dare you! I love you, and I don't know how I could _ever_ wish you weren't born! You know this!"

I do, but for the sake of argument I don't want to admit it.

"Oh, yeah, right," I mutter.

"Listen, Syrmé, your father and I discussed this before it even happened. I approved. We do not love each other - I stay out of their way as much as I can, and he in turn doesn't mention it around anyone. We act like it isn't there - for your sake."

I feel tears slowly sliding down my cheeks, and a sob scratches at my throat. My mom's formerly angry eyes instantly turn sympathetic, as she takes a step forward to lay her hand on my arm.

"Honey - " she starts, but I jerk my arm away.

"Leave me alone!" I yell. I know that getting angry is not a wise choice for me, but it is inevitable. I turn on my heel, storming out and heading for my room, passing my father, who seems surprised at all the yelling. I shoot an extremely nasty glare at him, then duck into my room.

I am human. I cry. I feel sad. But never - _never_ - have I felt like this. I felt like I was betrayed; first by my father, but now that my _mother_ is in on this, too... Who's next? Luke?

Come to think of it...

Damn him. Damn her. Damn them all.

I moodily stare at my feet, letting hot tears blink out of my eyes and slide through the air and onto the dirt covering my boot. A draft of cool, refreshing, humid air caresses the back of my head and neck.

And I turn, looking curiously at my open window.

My whole family is screwed up, anyways.

I am leaving.


	4. Chapter IV

**Saber Girls:**You knew? By the way, I know I must sound stupid, what was does MTFBWY mean?  
**Pirtroid: **Thanks. :) And of course Leia is -- I would be.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Wet grass came off on my knee, and my palms, and I toll to lower the impact of the ground. After a moment, I gingerly stand. My wrist hurt, but it doesn't seem to be anything terrible. I shoot a look up at the two-story window I had just jumped from, and start to jog lightly away, shutting my mind out to anyone trying to pry. As I pass my mom's office window, I feel a sense of relief as the room was darkened out; at least she won't see me. If I'm lucky, she won't even know I'm leaving until I'm actually gone.

I reach the side-house where I keep the X-wing - again, a sense of relief since the thing is actually working - and, hoping that the large doors that held the twelve and a half meter ship would open quietly, I quickly tap in the code. To my horror, large clanging endued, and I curse quietly, running in as the door opens wide enough to allow. I sprint to the far wall, turning on an astromech droid then running to where my white helmet and flight suit were. I haphazardly tug them on, pulling the helmet onto my head as the astromech droid slowly rolls to the X-wing's side.

Oh great. I just heard the door to my house open.

Damn, damn, damn, damn...

I pull a sort of platform near the R2 unit, and the little thing rolled on. Good thing it knew the procedure...

Hurried footsteps are coming nearer...

I press a button, and the platform shoots upward. The poor astromech was barely on the platform when I hit it, so the little thing almost rolled off as I run up the ladder. An extended walkway makes its ways toward the astromech slot on the X-wing, and I couldn't be gladder that the little thing I chose was nothing like Artoo. It actually complies silently, rolling its way into the slot.

"SYRMÉ!" I hear my mother's voice, but I wasn't about to answer her. I nearly slip as I hop into the cockpit, letting the window close over me. I could barely see my mom striding across the small room and toward my ship, but its not like I'm paying attention. I buckle in, switch on the ship...

Mom's getting nearer, she's running now...

The engine roars to life, and I quickly stabilize the controls...

It's possible that mom would hop onto the ladder now and come with me as I take off...

I pull a lever, and am pushed against my seat as the ship lurches forward. I don't even look back at my mom as I clear the room and am out in the open, tropical night. As I reach the outskirts of the atmosphere, I quickly set the coordinates and make the jump to hyperspace (those General Ship classes really paid off).

I decide to first head for Coruscant.

* * *

The ride to Coruscant was uncomfortable. It was hot and constricting, but I had managed to fall into a light doze for a good part of the trip, and I am currently just entering the Coruscant atmosphere, towards where my R2 unit tells me is a popular vacation resort. That seems to be a pretty good cover.

A red light above me started flashing, and I take that as a comm call coming through. I hit the button to allow transmissions, and I hear a very professional voice through the speaker.

"Name and business?"

Crap. In those cramped hours in my X-wing, I hadn't even thought of name for myself. Surely I couldn't go as Syrmé Carr.

"Erm..." I think, and shout out some random sounds. "Tyle... Noon. Vacation... purposes...?" I said, mentally kicking myself for sounding so uncertain.

Some static. "I'm sorry, what was that? Mtyle Nolon?"

That's certainly a lot better than Tyle Noon.

"Yes." I reply, firmly. "And for vacation." I add.

"Proceed to Docking Bay 27F, in landing hangar 42 section B. Please transmit a sum of seven hundred credits to account number 0027522."

Seven hundred? That sure as hell is a lot of money. Then again, I am paying with my mother's credits, and she definitely isn't short on those.

"Agreed." I say, pressing a few buttons to make the transaction. Its not like they would be willing to haggle, anyway. And I don't want to draw attention, for obvious reasons, so I flew into the planetary coordinates that they gave me quietly, setting my ship down -- which started to make a weird whining noise in the engine.

Oh crap. Just my luck.

I set her down -- I still haven't named her, I just realized -- then hop out quickly, ignoring the strange looks. So what if I have an old ship? There's no reason to gape like I had just stepped out one of those over-glamorized holovids depicting the Rebellion. Jerks.

A quick check told me that my engine is still... working. Well, its old, so that long after such a short time of getting it up and running again was... I admit, rather tactless. No use crying over spilled juice, I suppose, so I'll just fix it.

Thing is is that it may take as much as a week to fix her. And then it comes to finding the right parts for such an old model, and news will leak out eventually that I have gone missing and I may get recognized...

I have dug myself into my own little hole here.

The best I could do was... I hate to do it, but leave my X-wing here and hitch a ride out.

That is, if all that was wrong was that I needed new oil.

Doubtful. I had changed the oil around the day before I told mom. Or let her know that I know, should I say.

Still, it doesn't hurt to hope, does it?

Crap. I knew it was inevitable.

I look wistfully at my ship, laying a hand on her. I had spent so much time on her... but I wasn't going to give up just yet. I was going to give my family a little scare before I went back.

Because I'm feeling oddly vengeful -- and that's bad for me. But I had a good reason. And I'm not turning to the Dark Side any time soon. And I don't want power, so what harm could this do?

A lot.

With a sigh, I take one last glance at her. She was suddenly all the more majestic; chipped though the paint was, and blaster marks streaked the sides, but she seemed proud, ruling over all other ships in the hangar.

And I would hate to leave her, but... I guess I had to.

I sigh, my forehead screwed up from the upsetting situation, and quickly half-jogged out of the hangar without a backwards glance.

After all, if I keep looking back I won't have any idea where I'm going.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the short chapter, sorry for taking so long (busy week), and I'm sorry if its a filler.


	5. Chapter V

**Saber Girls:** Aha. Now I see. - isn't big on online Star Wars acronyms/lingo - I should take a course. xD And I know it was filler, and for that I'm sorry. I hope this chapter makes up for that. :D  
**GreatOne:** I'm glad you did, too. :DI don't want to deter you, but Han might not be around _to_ explain. xD By the way, love your work.  
**Dovasary:** Haha, thank you. I got your last review for my other story, but unfortunatley that one is finished so I can't reply. But it made me blush. xDDD Anyhow, it's pronounced 'SIGH-rr-may'.  
**yellow-lily:** If you keep reading and reviewing, you may find out. ;-D

**

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE **

" - Yes, yes, that's what I heard too - missing - "

"Ran away?"

"Rumour has it she's been kidnapped, though from what I hear about the girl I wouldn't put it past her - "

I keep my head at my feet, nervously fiddling with my hair and the ends of my sleeves. News was out that fast? I'm actually not all too surprised, considering my mother and uncle are the most-watched siblings in a few systems, but I would think my mom and Luke would have tried to keep this quiet. But, due to recent events, I guess I don't know my mother as well as I'd have hoped.

So here I am, wandering aimlessly, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, thanking the gods that I don't have any very distinguishing features about me so long as I keep my head down.

I need a ride out of here. Fast. And from someone stupid or someone doesn't care that they're letting a missing technical-Princess Jedi hitch a ride with them. The former is the most likely, because most would be happy to bring the little rebel (or kidnappee) back home to mommy for a little reward.

The problem is finding someone of either category without getting recognized. It's not like I can go up to someone and say, 'Hey, you don't know who I am, do you?'

Definitely not. I have to scope out someone that, a) looks like their IQ is a bit below average, b) have a sort of rebellious, 'I'm in this for the money I don't care if you are a wanted criminal on twenty systems' air to them, or c) doesn't look like they care about or would recognize any sort of prominent figure (or a prominent figure's offspring).

I walk into one of the temporary hangers (or so the map says), stopping so I could cast a quick glance around. And then I practically fall over as something hard and solid pushes me roughly

"Ah - friggin' crap - " I start, picking myself angrily off the floor and turning to face my attacker, subconsciously noting exactly where my lightsaber lay, hidden. Did people not have any manners on Coruscant? Obviously not, considering the next comment.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, stopping in the middle of the aisle like that?" asked the person that knocked me from my feet.

"If you would watching where you're going, you wouldn't have that problem!" I bite back. Idiot.

"Listen, girl, I'm sorry for knocking you over but I would think someone your age may have a _little_ more common sense."

Nice apology. Especially since you managed to imply that I was a moron during it.

"Are you calling me stupid?" I snap, letting my eyes slip over the man I was currently arguing with, trying to find a fault in him that I can retort with.

Thing is is that he's not overweight, dirty, or dressed in clothes that don't match. So that certainly rules out any physical insults. Sure, he's old - maybe forty-five or so - but that's hardly an intelligent revile.

"I dunno if you're stupid or not, but you certainly aren't gettin' any points for stopping right in front of the doorway."

"It's called using your eyes."

"It's called takin' a step to the right."

I glare at him. Imbecile.

"Well I'm sorry for causing you the great uncomfort of having to knock straight into a girl half your weight. So, if you'd excuse me..." with one last glare, I sauntered off in the other direction, almost hearing the insults and curses uttered by the man I left behind me.

A slowly studied the hangar, leaning in the shadows against the metal wall behind me. Too bad most of the personal pilots with the good freighters seemed to be rather intelligent, and I could swear that I could see my name - first, last, or both - be formed on some of their lips as they caught up with the news.

Damn, my choices are narrowing, as is my hope for getting out of this place.

I slowly trace my gaze across the hangar again, and I jolt with surprise.

He's a pilot?

Obviously; he's lounging on the ramp of his freighter that looks like it came from the Clone War era, but it seemed like it may fly. And in our little spat at the door, he had a full, well-lighted view of my face and still didn't seem to recognize me as the missing daughter of Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker (I am refusing to put my father's last name afterward, since their marriage seemingly only reaches as far as a datapad).

I don't want to have to take a flight with him. He's the biggest jerk probably on Coruscant.

Dimwit.

Actually, not really, he seemed quite intelligent when you look past him not finishing off his '-ing' words.

And there was the possibility that he won't take me. Or that he doesn't take charters. But then what the hell is he doing hanging around there for? I mean, I may as well take my chance. What harm could it possibly do? None.

I make my way across the hangar, once again having to stare at my feet and risk running into something rather than risk recognization. A quick glance up tells me that I'm three feet away from him and any closer would be wrong with someone one had just gotten into a disagreement with. I look him straight in the face, and saw that he was surveying me with dislike.

"Did you just think of a comeback, and you've come back to say it to me?"

Gods, this man was immature.

"_No_, for your information. I need a ride out of here."

"I'm not taking charters." he says easily, and I find myself sighing in frustration.

"Then what in gods' name are you doing here?"

"Waiting for someone. I'm collecting on a bet."

Either this man is telling the truth or he's an awesome liar.

"I can pay." I offer.

"As opposed to me taking you for free?"

"I can pay a lot."

"Why me? Why not that guy? He's probably charge less than what I'm thinkin' of." he says, gesturing somewhere to his right, and I look at the pilot he's referring to.

I recoiled as I saw the fat, dirty, and uncolor-coordinated man burping out the carbonation from the bottle of alcohol next to him. I glance back at the man in front of me, with what I was sure was a look of disgust on my face.

He had also just got done with surveying the drunken pilot.

"Good point." he said, shrugging. "I demand three thousand."

Are you kidding me!

"You said you could pay a lot." he reminded.

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be that _exorbitant_."

"Take it or leave it, or find someone else."

"Two thousand?"

"Twenty-seven hundred."

"Twenty-five hundred."

"Twenty-six fifty."

"Twenty-six hundred."

"Done." he says, swiftly, standing and stretching out his arms. I sigh in relief.

"You'd better be ready." he says, peering at me sharply with one eye.

"I am. But aren't you waiting to collect on a bet?" I ask nonchalantly, taking a credit chip out of my pocket and entering the correct amount, before holding it out to him. He snatched it lightly from my fingers.

"I lied. I wanted to get you out of my hair."

Aha. So he was an accomplished liar.

"Are we leaving now?"

"Why? Are _you_ waiting for someone?"

"No."

"Then why the hell will we be waitin' around?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then get on board."

I shrug, walking up the ramp and into the ship. Hopefully the thing can get off the ground. I wander aimlessly around the round hallway, peering in at different rooms of the ship. It's plain, and nothing really notable, so I just went and sat in the large copilot seat in the cockpit, waiting for the pilot.

What was his name? Reflecting on our only conversation (I don't count the argument as conversing), I realized that we didn't even exchange names. Well, whatever.

I hear the distant sound of the ramp closing, and then the pilot's light footsteps as he walks into the cockpit and into his seat.

"What's your name, anyway?"

He glances at me sharply.

"Why?"

"Why not? Is it suddenly forbidden?"

He relaxes, and I realize that this guy probably isn't one big on trust.

"Tyl Olos."

"S - Mtyle Nolon." I reply, catching myself. He looks at me suspiciously, probably for faltering, but I ignore it. "Where's your copilot?"

"Don't have one."

What? How does he not have a copilot? Doesn't he get lonely? Actually, seeing how much I know him now, probably not. But you need a copilot for a freighter, _that_ much is known.

How does he not have a copilot? Doesn't he get lonely? Actually, seeing how much I know him now, probably not. But you need a copilot for a freighter, much is known. 

"Why not?"

"My old one started a family."

"Oh." I shrug. "So you can't get another one?"

"I don't _want_ another one. There's a difference there, prissy."

"Mtyle." I correct him. No way will he call me 'prissy'.

"Whatever."

"I'll copilot for you."

"Do you even know how to fly?" he asks off-handedly, flicking some switches overhead, securing various systems before he starts up the ship. Standard procedure.

"Of course I do. How do you think you got here?"

A shrug. "I dunno. Supposed you live here." he glanced at me, a quick survey that suddenly made me feel self-conscious. "But you don't look Coruscanti."

"You can't _see_ the flight suit?"

"Well, if you got here by yourself, why aren't you flying away by yourself?"

"My ship broke down."

"You were flying a ship you can't repair?"

I huff. Gods this man is annoying. Did he think I was stupid? "Of _course_ I can repair it." I start, exasperated, as the ship started to life around me. "I fixed it in the first place. But it'll take to long, and I need to get out of here."

"Why? What's so important about leaving?"

"Is there such thing as privacy?"

Tyl grinned, and it seemed to totally change his face, making him look years younger. "Suppose so. Anyhow, you shouldn't leave your ship like that - "

"Its not like I _wanted_ to, I put in hours upon hours of work on her in the first place - "

"All the more reason. Listen, I've been in countless situations with Ruth here where I could have just left her and it probably would have been safer for me - " _Yeah, that's probably why you have three scars on your face._ " - but I didn't. Because I feel loyalty to her, she's gotten me out of some tight spots."

"You call her _Ruth_?" I ask, incredulous. Yeah, nice name for a ship.

"For short." he says, narrowing his eyes. This was a personal insult to him. "She's _Ruthless Endeavors_ officially, and I don't want to hear you insultin' this girl."

I shrug. Might as well call this thing _Endea_, it may actually sound a little better. But I'm not about to say that out loud, because Tyl Olos seems like the kind of person who would pull his blaster straight out of its holster on his thigh if I dare make a remark about _Ruth_.

"Well, are you going to let me copilot for you?"

"Sure, even though I've mastered pilotin' this girl by myself."

"Good." I say lightly, turning to the controls. Thank the gods that I paid attention in classes back at the Academy. After a few seconds, Tyl lightly pressed a button and we were off the ground.


	6. Chapter VI

**peach:** Nope, no significance. :)  
**Saber Girls:** Nope. - points at name - Tyl Olos. xD  
**GreatOne:** - giggles - Olos has no relation to Solo. The man isn't Han. He's TYL. And Chewie didn't leave him. Because its not Han. ( Sorry if I'm a bit repetitive. xD ) And forty-five isn't old! Trust me. I was merely pointing out that he's old_er_. He actually _is_ older than forty-five, but... I promised myself not to say anything about the story.  
**yellow-lily:** Thank you. I don't know how I thought of it, but I liked that too. :D  
**Smartstar247:** Thanks. And nope, not Han Solo. He died. - points to chapter two -  
**Caiden McBrien: **- huff - I hate you all. XDD No, just kidding. I don't. I love you. You reviewed me. Anyhow, no, for the last time, he's not Han Solo. Tyl Olos.  
**Dovasary: **He's not! - wrings hair - The Olos/Solo thing is coincidence. Seriously. I thought of it after STAR testing. And Solo wasn't the original word. It was actually _solar_, but I twisted it around and took out and added words. xD Thats how I come up with most of my names.  
**KnitedRogue:** xDDDD Too bad I can't say anything in regards to that first paragraph that I haven't said... - counts - six times. :D And thank you about the voice. This is new to me, so I still may slip some past-tense words in there because thats how I always have written. I'm getting better at putting "says" instead of "said", though.  
**The Real Leia:** Nope. He's not. :-D

**Author's Note:** This chapter is pretty long, and I'm glad, thats why it took me three or so nights to write. But I like it, so yeah. And I admit: Olos is like Han --- - pauses, rewinds - Olos is _**LIKE**_ Han, bu-ut he's different. Note the names.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Where're we going anyway?"

This sentence jerked me from my thoughts, and I look up at Tyl's face full of practicality and absolutely zero curiosity. Crap. In my escape I surely hadn't thought anything out.

"Erm..."

"You're telling me you don't know? How stupid are you?"

I glare at him.

"Listen, you moron, of _course_ I thought about it, but I'm having trouble deciding between two." I lie quickly.

"Is there anyway you can tell me which two?"

"So I can have the honor of your input?"

Tyl scowls at me before turning his gaze back to the window. "No, prissy, so I have a general idea which direction I'm goin'."

I return his look, even though I knew he was right. I had hoped for an ensuing argument in which I would have some time to think of two systems that seemed plausible for me to want to see. But Tyl kept giving me expectant glances, so I simply blurt out two planets I already know a lot about.

"Tatooine and Endor."

Tyl snorts, then coughs, then laughs, sending me an amused look that clearly tells me he genuinely believes this to be a joke. As he catches my expression, although, his own turns to bewilderment.

"What in the blazes do you want on a giant rock and a moss-covered moon?"

"For your information - as if you care - " Another snort confirmed this. " - Both Tatooine and the forest moon of Endor have a large significance to the history of the Rebellion - "

"Of course I _know that_ - but I'm taking you somewhere for a _history_ project?"

I could feel myself flush and, at the same time, start to anger. "No! For purposes to do wtih real interest and curiosity - "

"So you can get shot by sand people and kidnapped by teddy bears with pointy sticks? That's it. I'm charging another three thousand."

"Actually, their names are _Tusken Raiders_ and _Ewoks_ - but you don't seem have the brain capacity to remember that - " I had started before I heard him upping the price. "Of course you can't!" I shout, furious and worried at the same time. "We already agreed on the price!"

"So?"

"So? It's an agreement!"

"So?"

"Shut up."

A sigh, and he shot a sharp frown at me. "Fine..." he mutters. "Which one, then?"

"Both?"

"WHAT?"

"You heard me."

"I deserve the extra three thousand now - I agreed to one bloody planet and only money can stop me from taking off as soon as you hit soil. Or sand."

"I'll find another pilot, then."

"Good luck in that. Tatooine is full of shabby places - and Endor doesn't even have _any_ places."

I grumble, disliking this man more and more with each passing second. But he has logic in this, and nothing I can argue - my mother could, yes, possibly, but I unfortunately don't have her politician debate skills.

"Fine. I don't care anymore."

"Good. Fork it over."

I oblige, pulling out a credit chip and entering the amount before tossing it over to him. He catches it easily, slipping it into the pocket of his gray slacks.

"Which one first?"

I glare at him suspiciously for his sudden lack of concern. "You seem very amiable now."

"I always am when I get money."

I snort, finding no difficulty in believing this. "Endor." I reply. Yeah. Maybe it will be fun to visit the place that had, ultimately, ended the struggle for democracy and freed the galaxy from the tyrant clutches of the Empire.

"Crazy little fuzzballs..." I hear Tyl mumble, leaning backwards to comfortably reach his NavaComputer on his left-hand side.

"Like you would know!" I snap at him, defensive, and hoping that he wouldn't embarrass me _too_ much.

"I would."

"Oh?" I ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. In truth, his answer surprised me. Not many people I know have visited Endor. My mother, Luke, a good chunk of the former Rebels. Okay, then maybe the whole Rebellion. Tyl simply grunts at me in reply, seemingly absorbed in making hyperspace calculations. A second or so passes, and I speak again with what came out as a clipped tone.

"Care to elaborate?"

Tyl shot a glance at me, as we both seemed to simultaneously realize that it was going to be along ride, we may as well get to know each other.

"I was in the Rebellion for years before the war was won, probably around five months before Yavin and the destruction of the first Death Star."

"Really?" I ask, excited, and Ty gave me an alarmed look as if he hadn't expected so much enthusiasm. "What were you?" Probably a pilot, X-wing, or someone who flew dangerous escorts or fought in major battles -

"A technician."

"_What_?"

Tyl appeared nonchalant. For some reason, I had had him pegged as someone who didn't sit quietly very easily and had a main role in action.

"What?" he asks, blinking innocently.

"You didn't fight at all?"

"Did I say that? Of course I did, when they were short on pilots against second Death Star."

So this guy was a back-up. A reserve. That was his exciting role. I don't know why I was so disappointed, although. I shrug, and turn my attention back to the view of hyperspace, which I still found fascinating. I could feel his eyes on me, scrutinizing, surveying me out.

And obviously he decided that it's his turn to ask questions. "And what are you doin' here?"

"Erm..." I start. "Well, I'm from Yavin IV, and - "

"Yavin IV?"

"Yes."

"Are you a Jedi?"

I jump. "Why?"

"Well, all I know 's that the new Jedi temple is on that little moon."

"Oh. And yeah. I am. Erm, actually, that's why I'm here. Jedi Right of Passage, you know?"

"Actually no."

"Oh. Well, yeah. Right of Passage. Have to travel by myself for a few weeks."

"I never heard of that."

"You're not a Jedi."

"You're right."

"So yeah."

"Is part of this passage thing requiring that you wear the same clothes the whole time?"

"No."

"Then why the hell didn't you pack more?"

"Because I was in a hurry."

"You just had to hop in and leave?"

Well, yeah. "Sort of. I packed a little, but I had to sell it... all. Because my ship broke down."

"Great ship." he commented, very sarcastically.

"It's old!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe not as old as this hunk of junk..."

"Hey, watch it or you're gonna find yourself floatin' home." Tyl snapped at me. "What kind of ship?"

"And old X-wing. Directly from the Rebellion."

"And you just _left _it there?"

"I had to get out of Coruscant!"

"_WHY_?"

"Because!" I argue, for lack of a point.

"Do you have any idea how rare those things are?"

"Yes." I say defiantly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Why couldn't you stay a bit longer to get together some stuff? I don't want you stinkin' up my ship."

I narrow my eyes at him, but refuse to answer. He takes the hint, and turns back to the controls, although there isn't much to do with them at the moment. Then we both, strangely synchronically, stand, ready to leave. After an odd look that passes between us, we turn to go.

I hear Tyl had quietly express that things are so much easier with a copilot now (which I take as a compliment), and then we split ways. He went to lock himself in his cabin, doing gods know what, and I start to explore more intricately than I had in my first brief self-tour when I stepped onto the freighter. As I enter one of the spare passengers' cabins, I start pressing the different buttons that open the drawers. Most are empty, I realize with disappointment, until I came to the very bottom one. I quickly bend over and start to shuffle through its contents. I decide that it is a very interesting drawer, with several holobooks and vids, a large metal box that rattles and won't open even when I attempt to hotwire it, a string of brown hair (which I quickly discard, who knows how long that's been there), and large quantities of dust. I quickly flip through the datapads, looking for something interesting that I could read or watch on the way to the forest moon.

Good gods, this man can very well be lying to me about being in the Rebellion - although, for some reason, I don't doubt him - considering his choice of reading material. Some I set down quickly back into their place in the drawer (like _Advanced Repair for the YT-1300_ and _The Layout of a Typical Hyperdrive: Volume III_), but others quickly catch my attention. He had some holobooks on the Rebellion that not even Luke had in his new Jedi's archive. So I took the three that looked the most interesting - _Inner Workings of the Rebel Alliance_, _Darth Vader and the Connections Between His Past, the Empire, and the Rebellion_, and _Palpatine's Undetected Ascent to Power_ - and take them to a barren bunk at the other end of the room, and start reading _Darth Vader_. It's so immersing that I read for a few hours without realizing so much time had passed, and eventually I feel Tyl leaning against the doorframe, studying me.

"What're you doing?" He asks in his gruff, deep tone.

"Reading." I say automatically, not taking my eyes off the datapad.

"You make it a point to go through the Captain's stuff on every trip?"

Not really, this was my first real trip away from my mother and uncle. But I still answer "yes" while finally looking up quickly to meet his eyes calmly.

I study his eyes, and they are an amazing ecru color. He stares straight back, and I notice a light change in his expression, to one of gentle confusion until that was covered smoothly. "Food's ready." he says, finally.

"What is it?" I ask, setting the pad aside and standing, while jerking on my sleeves that had rode up to almost past my elbows.

"Why does it matter?" he mumbles, turning. "You're eating it anyways."

I scowl at him, pushing roughly past him as I make my way to where I remember the kitchen is. I smell something exotic and lingering, and I eagerly start going through the cabinets in search of bowls. I feel a warmth behind me, and look up to see Tyl reaching far above my head and grabbing two metal dishes, then his hand wandering into a drawer and emerging with a utensil that looked like a spoon and a fork combined.

"Why are your plates up so high?" I ask, setting them on the table.

"Because I'm not short."

"I'm _not_ short!" I protest. Definitely not. Okay, so maybe Olos was eight inches taller, but that didn't make me short. It makes him abnormally tall. He just snorts at me, picking op the pot and pouring what looked like soup into each bowl, and I sit.

"What is this? It smells good." I comment, picking up my spork as he joins me.

"Alderaanian stew." he replies easily, dipping his spoon and taking a mouthful as I stared. The only people that knew how to make this was the few Alderaanians left in the galaxy. And this man is not of Alderaan, I knew that right away.

"How do you know how to make it?" I ask, amazed.

"Stole the recipe off of an Alderaanian."

"_What?_ Why?"

"Because. It smelled good."

I huff, and I could feel myself starting to get mad again. He stole a rare recipe from its rightful owner. How low. I saw that he noticed my annoyance, and my refusal to touch the savoring, tempting stew.

"I'm just kidding." he says, and I look up, surprised to see a smile that had slipped up the side of his face. "I was taught."

I look at him, studying, and sensed the truth, and permitted myself to take a large bite. Gods, it was delicious. It tastes just like my mother's back home, except with a few spices that were added that gives it a more contemporary yet bizarre taste. The meat is so tender, and the sauce slides down my throat so easily, it's all I can do to keep myself from moaning in my pleasure.

"You like it?"

"It's delicious." I compliment, smiling at him lightly.

Maybe Tyl isn't so bad after all.


	7. Chapter VII

**KnightedRogue: **:D He is an interesting character. And of course there are non-hero people. What about all those dudes Han snaps at on the base in ESB? And of course you can believe that. But that doesn't necessarily mean you're _right_. :D  
**GreatOne: **Well, of course he has met Ewoks, he was a technician for the Rebellion. :D He was there for the celebration.  
**yellow-lily: **Here's another chapter. Sorry it took so long -- busy, busy week. :)  
**Alowl: **Would you like butter with that? ;D  
**Saber Girls: **Yeah, he was. At the way end. Obi-Wan is walking with Bail down a white hall on a ship, and they give the two droids to a "Captain Antilles". And we know by Episode IV, from 3PO, that their "last master was Captain Antilles."

_Here's another chapter, everyone!_

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

I lazily dip my finger into the empty bowl, swiping some soup left on the rim and putting it in my mouth. Its a bad habit of mine, a habit that my mom tries so hard to break. But then I think of all those starving people out there, and that something like the remnants of soup would be a feast to them, and I simply have to finish it.

Tyl's watching me with the kind of interest that one watches with when they have nothing better to look at: out the window at swaying leaves during a particularly boring lesson, or at their drumming fingers, trying to get the perfect beat. The atmosphere is lazy, and tired, and contented; the soup was so good I had second helpings, and Tyl had third. Our meal had mostly been eaten in silence, due to the fact that we were too busy eating than anything else.

Tyl's guard's slipping, for the first time since we met. Although I know for a fact that he isn't Force-sensitive, he definitely is not weak-minded, and I haven't been able to scope him out since our first run-in on the hanger bay. I am feeling emotions come off him like warmth from a starting-up heating device, and I study him with markedly more interest than he is looking at me.

"What?" Damn. Mental wall is up again. I frown as I am suddenly blocked out.

"Nothing."

"Not trying to use any Force crap on me, are you? Because I would like to warn you beforehand that it won't work."

"I'm not trying to!" I argue defensively. He snorts noncommittally. "Jedi don't use the Force to _pry_."

"Save me the lecture, kid."

"No. You obviously need a lesson of some sort, if you're going to make assumptions about us."

"I don't need a lesson. Even more, I don't _want_ one."

I glare at him for a moment. "You're bitter."

"I'm old. It's a side-effect."

"You're not _that_ old, so you can't use that as an excuse. You're, what, forty-five?"

"Forty-nine. That's old."

"_Seventy-five_ is old, dimwit." The comfortable atmosphere that was just so recent seemed now so far away now.

"I'm a lot smarter than you, so I would keep my mouth shut."

"No you wouldn't. You're _incapable_ of doing that." I snap.

"_You_ don't seem to have mastered the link between your mouth and your brain very well either, prissy."

I glare at him. This man is so infuriating. For one minute he was actually tolerable, but that was probably because his mouth was too full of food to allow him to talk.

"_Stop_ CALLING me that!" I nearly shout.

"Aw, poor baby, big mean man called you names." he says in an aggravating baby tone. I storm out of the kitchen, slamming the pad next to the door then kicking it for good measure. And I am met with a massive pain in my big right toe. Dammit, so much for that.

* * *

"We're comin' up on Endor." Tyl informs me as he passes my quarters on the way to cockpit. I needn't have been informed, I heard the beeping start a few seconds ago (even from the confines of this room, which I had shut myself in for the few hours after our argument). I set down the datapad I was reading, and make my way to the cockpit and plop into the oversized copilot's chair, scanning the controls. After a few moments of study, I start to reach for a switch just as Tyl's hand makes its way toward it. He smacks mine away.

"I can do this." he mutters, flicking the switch. I could feel my face hot in annoyance, and I force myself to calm down.

"I'm your copilot, I'm supposed to help." I snap at him.

"I don't _need_ help with this, so you're fulfilling your job nicely."

"Do you _have_ to be so condescending?"

"Do _you_ have to be so pushy?"

"I'm not being pushy, I'm doing the job I agreed to do when I stepped on this thing!"

"I'm fifty-six hundred credits richer, you're helping me enough."

"Will you just let me help? Is it really that difficult? You said earlier that I made things easier. You _can't_ still be hung over on our little argument."

"Why would I care what you say? That didn't effect me at all. I just like things the way I do them."

"We were about to hit the same switch. I'm not stupid, I can copilot a freighter."

"I don't care."

This man's obviously hung up about something. But, like always, he is wary of my Force-sense and is concentrating wholly on seeing whether or not I was attempting break into his mind and find him out. I can feel it without even attempting to. He's strong-minded (and strong-headed), that much is for sure, and he apparently has some secrets that he's desperate to keep. That much I can respect; I have some secrets myself.

I watch as we come out of light speed, and I can see the tiny moon now. It obviously _is_ covered in trees, because the whole thing is green, and there is a thin layer of blue that's the atmosphere that sticks out a bit beyond the official planet. Tyl gracefully and surely turns the ship so the top is facing the moon, turning smoothly into the atmosphere. I feel a small jolt as we came out of space and into the friction of the atmosphere, and I quickly turn to the controls and am relieved that he doesn't fight me on this.

Its all I could do to keep from gaping and ignoring my duties. It was beautiful; the forest is dedicious instead of tropical, like at home. There are tiny, common birds, adding to the simplicity yet somehow enhancing the beauty. Endor is obviously uninhabited. I don't even need to look at the readings on the data screen of Ruth to see that. Tyl softly and automatically gives orders to me, and I follow them to a T, desperate to prove myself as worth as his copilot. I take one last look at the orange sunset just over the horizon of leaves, and we settle into an apt clearing. I could hear the crunching of twigs and leaves under us as _Ruthless Endeavors_ lands. Pale shafts of light make their way through the front window, bringing out the dust in the air.

"Should we go out now?" I ask, after we stare out the window for a moment. He shakes his head.

"Lets wait till morning. Its almost dark now, we should get some sleep. Its not gonna be as fun as you think out there." he replies dryly.

Well, it was dusk. It'd be better to set out in morning, that much is true.

"Fine. Can I take a shower then?"

I feel his hesitation, and uncertain ripple in the Force.

"I guess. I'll give you somethin' to wear when your clothes are washing."

Wow. That was an unexpected stroke of generosity.

"Thanks." That's all about I could say, but he seems to understand.

I make my way to where I think I remember where the refresher is, and I find myself correct. It's no that difficult, considering that this ship isn't that big. Making sure the door's locked soundly behind me I strip and fold my clothes neatly atop the toilet, and step into the shower. The water feels simply great, considering I haven't had a shower since the morning before I left. I realize just now that I must not have been a very pleasant thing to sit next to.

After half an hour in the shower, I wrap a towel around me and open the door, peering either way to make sure he isn't coming towards the bathroom. Grabbing my clothes and clinging them tightly to my chest above my already tightly-wrapped towel, I tip-toe out. After a few steps of this I lose patience and bolt at my door, making sure it hisses closed quickly behind me.

I breathe a sigh, dropping my towel and lightly setting my clothes on the top of one of the bunks, finding a baggy, beige long-sleeved shirt and pair of old yet clean black slacks laid out on the bed. I gladly don them, and they are sure as hell are a lot more comfortable then the flight suit I was in. I squeeze out my hair, dark from the water, then let it tumble down past my shoulders. I make my way out of the room and find Tyl just about to head to his cabins.

"Where should I put these?" I ask, waving my clothes which I had grabbed on the way out of my room.

"Next to the bathroom." he replies, proceeding to raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

He smirks. "That's a good look for you."

I look down, finding that his shirt had fallen to the top of my knees and the sleeves went four inches past my fingertips. The slacks tumbled to the floor, bunching up by my heels. I could only imagine exactly how much I look like I'm melting.

"Not my fault you're fat." I reply, meeting his smirk.

"That hurts, Em."

"Why are you calling me 'Em', now? I thought it was 'prissy'."

"Em is a lot easier to say than 'Mtyle'. Do you want me to go back to 'prissy'?"

"I'll take Em."

"Good. Truth is, that's easier to say to say than 'prissy', too. 'Night." he says, yawning, clapping me on the shoulder before trudging into his bedroom. I grin, and make my way back to the bathroom to drop my clothes off.

After that was over, I make my way back to my quarters, dropping onto the bunk in unfelt exhaustion. I quickly fall asleep, feeling a strange Force pulsating around me.

_

* * *

"I can't stand him, captain."_

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go with him anyways, ..." The name was drowned out by a crash.

"What'd I miss?" A new voice this time.

"What are you_ doing here?" _

"Why, why, if it isn't - "

"That's enough."

"Sorry, GR."

"Stop addressing him so informally - !"

"I said, that's enough_. This is an important briefing, and we are short on time." _

A feeling of anger, and pang of annoyance, and another wave of some other subdued emotion...

youthat's enough 


	8. Chapter VIII

**GreatOne: **I'm glad you like him! I like him too. :D  
**Saber Girls: **Are you sure? Because Wedge Antilles _did_ own 3PO and R2 at one point, and he does look a bit older than Luke and Leia, in my opinion. Concerning the flashback, you may find out a _bit_ more about it in this chapter... Only a tiny smidget, though.  
**Anakan Skywalker-Darth Vader: **Thank you. :DDD I try to stick to the movies.  
**Neassa: **So flattering. D Here's a new chappie.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

I feel a soft warmth upon me, and my eyes open, amazingly untired and unforced. I look slightly to my right, and squint. New-day sunlight is streaming through the clearing at just the right angle through the window of this cabin to hit me in the face. I sit up, stretching my arm, chest and shoulder muscles which were a bit cramp from sleeping on the cot in contrast to my feather-down bed at home (everything top of the line for Princess Leia's family, of course). I rub my right shoulder a bit, and slide my legs over the side of the mattress, wincing a little as my feet hit the cold floor that had not been bathed by the sunlight quite yet.

I walk out of the room, adjusting the oversized shirt from falling off my shoulder, and head to where my own clothes should have finished its washing cycle by now. To my relief, they are dry, I toss them on when I get back into my room, and sit cross-legged on the floor.

I don't like it, but I might as well meditate. Too many things have happened in the past day or two, that I need to clear out or organize in my head. Also, that strange dream I had last night... I don't know what it's about, or where I came from, but it stirs up a strange sense in me. Curiosity, as well as... something else.

Well, maybe my curiosity will make this meditation a bit more entertaining.

_

* * *

GR, Rebellion, captain, Ruth__... _

Only, flying... alone, apart, singly... deserted, forsaken, forlorn...

Love, hate, affection, compassion, rage, delight, annoyance, love, hate...

Rebellion, Death Star, Hoth, Endor, Yavin, Bespin, Tatooine, Vader, Emporer, Tantive, three... two...

One.

Ruth

* * *

I am jerked from my meditative state by the door opening and disturbing the peace and silence. I blink again, wincing in the sunlight. That solitary beam had moved across the room to my face again, and I shielded my eyes.

"I was just gonna to wake you up." says Tyl's deep voice behind me.

"I've been awake for a while." I reply, after glancing back at him. The sun hits my eyes again, and I squint, then get up. "Sun used to be on my bed." I mutter, jerking down the pants of my flight suit since they had ridden above my ankles.

"What were you doin'?"

"Meditating."

A snort. I ignore it, deciding that its best not to get in an argument this early in the morning.

"Are we heading out?" I ask brightly, slipping past him and through the doorway, turning and looking at him.

"Now? Can't we have something to eat, first?"

I shrug. I'm looking forward to exploring this moon more than anything, but I suppose that can wait fifteen minutes I head to the kitchen, pulling out two slices of bread and slopping spread in between them, proceeding to take a large, hungry bite. I look at my feet, frowning as I slowly chew.

The meditation was less than helpful. If anything, it caused me to become more than confused. Images, places, events, words were tossed at me. Although, my thoughts were a bit more organized that, and I recognized and placed a few words during the meditation. More than a few, due to the numerous places of the Rebellion, but I didn't realize their significance.

"What's up with you?"

I glance up at him, realizing that I had been oddly quiet for quite some time. Must have been strange, considering how he's known me in our past day together.

"Oh, nothing. Its just... nothing really. I guess." I stumble out, not keen on explaining everything to him. To my relief, he simply nodded. I smile weakly at him, finishing off my sandwich. He seems to know the meaning of privacy; I can give that much to him.

Olos seems to have followed suit with my choice of breakfast, as he was finishing off a sandwich as well.

"Ready?" I inquire, brushing off my hands. The look on his face told me he was less than enthused.

"Suppose so." he said heavily, following me. He pressed the keypad next to the door, and in its half-circular arc it slid open, and the ramp started descending. I start my way down it even before it fully hits the jumble of twigs and dry leaves that made up the uneven terrain below, and I hop down a natural step. I could hear Tyl ambling slowly behind me.

There is a crunch under my heel that is definitely _not_ wood. I lift up my foot, revealing a crumbled piece of something charred black, and I pick up piece, examining it. A jolt of excitement flashes through me, and I break out into a run, then start to circle the tree line.

"What the hell are you doing!" Tyl yells at me, looking at me as if I've gone crazy and seeming not at all surprised by it.

"Shut up!" I yell back at him, stopping swiftly as I find my target.

There it is.

"Oh gods, Olos, guess where we are?"

"Do I look like I care?"

"We have _landed_ at the site of the control center that was blown to bring down the shields to the second Death Star!" I shout excitedly.

I wait until he walks slowly to my side, examining the unmistakable site that his ship is currently atop. I have studied and studied every holo of this area in all the holobooks.

"Wow." he says dully. "That's great."

"You're not in the _least bit_ excited? You were in the Rebellion yourself!"

"I didn't fight this battle, kid."

"So?"

"So? It bears no significance to me. None, whatsoever." he responds, before sullenly walking away from me and into the trees. I sigh, taking one last look, then following him.

"Bitter old man." I shoot as I reach his side.

"Spoiled miss priss." he retorted, and we each look slyly at each other, grinning. I look around, surveying my surroundings.

I feel a jab in my back.

"Stop." I say, annoyedly. Tyl gives me a weird look, but says nothing.

"So. Why are you here?" he asks, after a minute of crunching through in silence.

It takes me a bit to figure out his question. But then it hits me.

"Oh. That. I told you, didn't I? Jedi Right of Passage." I mumble, looking at my feet to get down a particularly rocky, sloped area. I suddenly feel a strong grip above my elbow, and I look at Tyl, surprised. He doesn't speak until we're past the area, and I take the final step off the rock.

"I think you're lying." he said, bluntly, looking straight at me.

I return his gaze, and suddenly find myself incapable of lying to those eyes.

"Fine." I mutter. "You win. No..." I sigh, refusing to meet his face. "'Right of Passage', its all a lie..." I mumble, putting my forehead in my hands, feeling it burning with embarrassment.

I feel him sit next to me, and I avoid his gaze.

"You're a Jedi, though." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, I just... ran away." I admit, feeling a clenching in my stomach.

"Why?"

"Lets get moving, shall we?" I say, false-brightly, not really wanting to get into it. He stands, following me.

To my annoyance, I feel another jab at my back.

"STOP POKING ME!" I bellow, and he looks startled beside me. "GODS DAMN IT! I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU WHY?"

"Have you gone _craz - _" he stops. Then he feels it too.

There is something _sharp_ pointed at both of our backs.

"_Dammit_." he mutters, bringing his hands slowly into the air.


	9. Chapter IX

**Saber Girls: **Yeah, I guess you're right. xD  
**Neassa: **I like them too - so cute!  
**D'Attitude: **Thank you:) Here's an update.  
**GreatOne: **Can't have Endor without crazy little Ewoks, can I?  
**Anakin Skywalker-Darth Vader: **Yup, it is. :D  
**yellow-lily: **Nah, you're not traitorous. But I do love your reviews. :DDD  
**dm1: **Ah, yes, she is right. Lol, I just saw dark hair and heard 'Antilles'. And i know, I hate him dead too. But this story wouldn't let go, and I had to get it down. And thanks. :))  
**Dovasary: **Thanks! Lol, he did make an appearance, though. In that holochip in Chapter II. - points - xDDD

**Author's Note: **Okay everyone, I'm leaving somewhere around the twenty-sixth for vacation to my mom's for a few months – and she doesn't have a computer. Or, she might, but I won't be spending a lot of time on it. I'm going to try to finish the story by then (which shouldn't be too hard, considering I have just sprained my ankle and can't do anything but sit around all day. Yeah. RIGHT before summer vacation. I finally finished school, though- a week of finals, it was torture. x.x And I get a week of lazing around and getting fat then the first week or two at mom's lazing around and getting even fatter until the stupid ankle heals. Gahh. Wow, this parentheses section is long), so I won't leave you there for two months with nothing new. On with the story!

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

There's a smattering of strange tongue behind me, that sounds slightly like that of a Jawa's yet different. I follow Tyl's lead, and raise my hands for fear of getting brutally stabbed by the pointy things at my back.

"I _told_ you." Tyl hissed at me.

"Told me _what_?"

"_Told you what_?" he asked incredulously. "That we were gonna get kidnapped by Ewoks, that's what!"

"We are _not_ getting kidn – " I start for sake of argument, but am shut up quickly from a glare and jerk of the head by Tyl. I follow his gaze, and standing somewhere near my ribcage and ten feet away is a large, furry, tribal teddy bear. Or Ewok. It has its little spear thing pointed straight at us.

_That_ little _thing _is threatening us? You've got to be kidding me. How is it _possible _for a band of things little girls take to bed with them to kidnap I, Jedi (…almost) Syrmé Carr? Or, for circumstance's sake, Mtyle Nolon. Although, they are kinda cute. I don't know if I would be able to use my lightsaber on them.

The little thing - Ewok - had been joined by three of four others, and the leader - the first one - seems to be trying to aggresively communicate something at me, repeatedly jabbing its spear at me while spitting out suspicious words in their tongue. I look around in perplexion. _I_ wasn't doing anything. If anyone, they should be threatening Tyl, because he's bigger than I am.

"_Put your hands up._" I hear Tyl hiss at me through clenched teeth.

"_You_ put your hands up." Is my oh-so-witty retort, as I swiftly oblige.

* * *

We had been marched along for an hour or so; through the forest, up their platforms (swinging on vines and all), then into a room where we were stripped of our weapons and where we had been for the past three hours, staring in moody silence. 

There are four Ewok guards at the door plus coutless more outside, and two stationed by each window - like Tyl or I would've fit through those, anyhow.

Escape is uselss. Even if we _could_ get through those overly-aggressive pint-sized bears, there is the point of finding our way through the maze-like city, then through the forest back to _Ruth_. They had blindfolded us with crude bits of cloth, so if we ever escaped the city it would be a good chance we would spend a few weeks or more getting lost in the never-ending forest. We are trapped.

"What d'you think they're going to do with us?" So I had to break the silence. Hey, it was unbearable.

"Dunno. From what I've heard, when they first discovered humans last time they tried to roast 'em, but it doesn't look like they're doin' that now."

"Huh." I, of course, knew that story all too well - Mom and Luke had told it to me, trying to fit it in between bouts of laughter. "So."

"So." he repeats, raising an eyebrow at me, his eyes staring sharply into mine. "Mind tellin' me why you ran away?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just trying to do somethin' useful."

"You call _you_ - of all people - showing _parental_ concern _useful?_"

A snort. "No. I call saving myself from boredom _useful._ But hey, believe what you want."

Ugh. He is so aggravating.

"Screwed-up family. Long story." I mutter nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"We have all day."

True.

"Fine." I snap, drawing my knees close and crossing my arms across my chest. "But only if you shut up." He simply grins at me in reply.

"To make it short, found out dad was cheating on mom. Told mom, found out mom knew and didn't care. _Also_ found out the only reason she has suffered through this marraige is because of getting pregnant with _me_, because, in her words, 'unwed mothers aren't taken to easily'. Ran to my room, out the window, to the X-wing uncle gave me - by the way, he probably knows about this too - and took off. There."

Tyl was quiet for a moment, looking impressed. "Wow. That sucks."

I look at my knees, the dirt staining the once-pure white. I feel my head nod slowly.

"Yeah..."

Now that we're on the subject...

"What about you?"

Tyl looks taken aback, and I feel strange pleasure in his surprise.

"I'm shuttin' up now, like promised."

"No. Tell me. What's your story?"

"Don't have one. Boring life."

"Of _course_ you have one." I say exasperatedly. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so defensive."

"I don't. And I'm not."

"Tell me!"

"No!"

"You made me tell you something I didn't want to tell, so it's only fair!"

"Life isn't fair, priss."

"You are _such_ a jerk." I shoot at him, making sure to put a pained look on my face.

And it seems to work.

"FINE. But only if _you_ shut up, got it?"

I can feel my face immediately brighten, and I nod fervently and lean forward onto my knees.

"After the Rebellion, I lived on Muunilinst with my wife. One day, several years ago, I decided to visit a few friends of mine who lived in the Pelek Baw settlement on the planet Haruun Kal. Kissed the wife goodbye and took off with my copilot - Bache, was his name.

"Halfway there my hyperdrive went out, and I was near Dantooine, so at sub-light speed I landed there and started to do my repairs. A day passed. Maybe two. It doesn't really matter, because Bache and I were kidnapped by slave merchants who happened to be cruising by when they caught a distress signal that was comin' from my ship.

"We were shuffled around for a few months, before the pair of us were sold to some insecty thingies on... Genesis, Gonesos -- "

"Geonosis?" I interject, softly.

"That one. Yeah, Geonosis. Anyhow, turns out they have a weird grudge against humans, may have something to do with the Clone Wars, anyway... Bache and I were kept there for..." he pauses, and his brow furrows and he glances upward in contemplation. "Four... no, six years. That's where I got this..." A finger traced over an old, jagged scar that extended from his eyelid to crossing the brow. " - Nearly blinded me, and this one." he gestured at another scar on his face, that was perfectly straight and extended from his earlobe to nearly the corner of his mouth on the left side.

"One night, most'a the insect things were gone and partying about something I don't care about, except a few guards. Bache, me, and some other slaves desperate for freedom easily took 'em out, and we hijacked a ship and blasted off. The others went home, and I kept the ship since the whole thing was my idea anyways. Then I headed back for Muunilinst and for my wife.

"Got there one day, and I saw her. She was six years older, but still _mine_."

Tyl stops, and takes in a deep breathe. I feel pain, and anger, no, rage...

"Apparently not, though. Soon enough, there was a little girl, couldn't be older than four, trailing after her, clutching her hand. On that hand was a ring. Well, a different ring than the one I gave her. The girl was four. I was gone for six years. You do the math. In two measley years my wife managed to get remarried and knocked up. So I left, found _Ruth_ in a junk yard on Tatooine, sold the scrap pile I was flying and got back my own ship, and I've been chartering and things of the sort ever since."

A pronounced silence followed this.

"I'm sorry." I say, as sincerely as I possibly could. And it is sincere, I've never heard a worse story in my life. Hell, it makes my problems sound wimpy. I manage a weak smile. "I guess you beat me."

"Guess I do. I remember you promising to shut up after the story, though." he reminded.

I sigh, and slump once again against the wooden wall behind me.


	10. Chapter X

**Author's Note: **Okay, here's chapter ten. I'm nearly done with chapter eleven, and I'm hoping to get started with twelve. Bu-ut, I love many, many reviews (- hint hint - ) and that gets the chapters up faster. ;)

**Dovasary: **I know. I was writing it and thinking about it, and I thinking what a great story _that_ would be. x.x I'm getting myself all twisted up, here. But, yes, considering Tyl's character, he was pretty brave about that, it would have been easy to do something, as you say, rash right there. I know I probably would have. xD :D And if you're wishing for Han Solo, there's always chapter twooo... :DDD - is evil- Muaha. I love your reviews, keep 'em coming!  
**yellow-lily: **xDDD But of course, there cannot be a complete story without Ewoks.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER TEN**

"Ochok emee-o a japka. Uhno muun! Wy kcet wah ryck!"

Tyl and I throw eachother yet another exasperated glance. This little thing had been trying to tell us something for the past half hour, but neither Tyl nor I know any dialect belonging to these sentients. This little one is very old: his fur is nearly white, and there is an old, crude leather hood atop his head.

The little Ewok makes an impatient grunt-sigh, and plops down on his rear, facing Tyl and I. Then he changes his mind, and stands up again. In his short, clumsy strides, he crosses the room over to me, and grabs my hands. I jerk them back on impulse (you'd be jittery as well if you were in my position), but the stubborn little thing simply grabs them again. I feel his cold, wet nose touch them as he sniffs deeply, then looks up, excited-seeming, starting to blabber about something again.

It's all helpless. I could feel my head shaking as I wipe my hands on the trousers of my suit, and smirk at Tyl as the old Ewok clambers over to him. Tyl ignores me, sighing and looking contemtously at the Ewok then half-heartedly and grudgingly holds out a hand. The Ewok fervently sniffs that as well, and starts saying what I'm recognizing as the same phrase he's been repeating for the past half hour.

I knock my head against the wall behind me, and groan in frusteration. Great. Just great. Now I'm going to have a massive bump on the back of my head.

"Syprek pac! U unuuo ofsew kabe gina."

Oh, now this is wonderful. A new phrase I get to have to mix up with all the others.

"Wy kcet wah ryck!"

"We don't know what you're saying!"

My voice is utterly hysterical. Even I can hear that. I'm vaguely aware of Tyl rolling his eyes, but I'm too budy trying not to scream in frusteration to care. The old tribal _thing_ merely tilts his head in aggravating curiosity with a soft, inquiring "moo?".

My head tilts back again, consequently knocking it in the same spot where the bump is. _Agh._

Gods, I need something to rip -

No. Can't think like that. A Jedi needs to control her anger.

I take a deep, shaky breathe. Then three more. And I feel slightly better.

I look forward at the Ewok that has plopped itself down in front of me again. I calm down slightly more with a few more breathes, then reach out to the Force for clairvoyance and understanding. Then I focus on the little guy in front of me.

He points a stubby finger at his face.

"Wy kcet wah ryck."

_

* * *

"I promise I won't hurt you. Now, come here." A disheveled girl in camoflauge takes a scrap of food out of her pocket and offers it to him. An Ewok takes a step backward, then cocks his head and moves cautiously toward Leia, chattering in his squeaky language. "That's right. Come on. Hmmm?" Sniffing the food curiously, the Ewok comes toward Leia and sits on the log beside her. She takes off her helmet, and the little creature jumps back, startled again. He runs along the log, pointing his spear at her and chattering a blue streak. Leia holds out the helmet to him. "Look, it's a hat. It's not gonna hurt you. Look. You're a jittery little thing, aren't you?"_

* * *

And I understand.

"Wicket Warrick."

In response, Wicket jumps (surprisingly for his old age) and hugs me. And then another thing dawns on me.

He knows who I am. He knew my mother, and he can smell her all over me. Thank the gods that Tyl doesn't know their language.

"He's friendly." I smile hopefully at Tyl, patting the Ewok awkardly on the back. Tyl snorts.

"Yeah, dragging us up here in blindfolds, I sure call that frie - " he is silenced as Wicket glomps onto him as well.

"So, you guys know eachother? Get together for sabaac every week?" I tease lightly, smirking, knowing this would infuriate him. He sneers at me.

"What about you? Get together for - "

"Ohmee jab! Uunkut err a lan!"

I hardly hear this, being too busy glaring at Tyl, full-well knowing exactly what he was just about to say.

"Come again?" Tyl asks mock-politely, after sending a subtle smirk in my direction.

"Don't even try, _I_ can understand him _much_ better than you can." I snap at him, before turning my attention back to Wicket.

"Pardon me, princess." I vaguely hear him mutter

* * *

Turns out the little guy wanted to bring us to dinner, after telling the tribe that we were, indeed, safe. After having our weaons given back (which was difficult, the oh-so-curious creatures were still prodding them), we were taken to the fire. So we sit, cross-legged, feasting on roasted nuts. Tyl looks less than enthused, yet this has opened a whole new horizon to me. I listen to them talk, and chatter, trying to understand their language through repeated words and gestures and feelings they were emitting. The little ones, to my amusement, have been crawling all over Tyl since he's got here, and he hasn't been able to scare them off with threats so he can do little but permit.

I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. Throughout the seeming festivity, and even in front of a roaring fire, it's actually quite cool here and the sweat's starting to get on my nerves. I glance behind me, but there's only Tyl who's sitting partially behind and on my right, trying to be inconspicuous and failing miserably with a young Ewok crawling all over his face. I smile lightly and accept more food from the Ewok to my left, and hungrily eat up the little nuts. It seems forever since the sandwich this morning.

Its probably only around four hours past midday, but already the sky is getting golden and the light shafts more bronze as they path their way through the broad leaves. The shadows that are cast are long, and the air is light and warm and sweet. Even the crudeness of the architecture seems beautiful, and raw, and natural. They are hardworking folk, those Ewoks; even now, at dinner, I see a few thatching a hole in a roof, and quite happily so. Albeit primitive, this tiny race is quite civilized.

But even tonight, divine as it is, I'm not altogether relaxed. I wipe yet more prespiration from my forehead, and scratch at the back of my neck, then I'm still feeling oddly hot and uncomfortable, so I proceed to roll up my sleeves and legs of my pants.

All the Ewoks within five feet of me stand, digging out little stone knives and pointing them at me. Tyl, behind me, lightly groans.

What the...

Oh.

I smile, hoping its reassuring, and stop rolling up the pants on my right leg, tugging out a piece of the rolled cloth to them. An adventurous one steps forward, prodding at it lightly with the tip of the knife. I feel my body tense lightly at the sudden touch, but I force myself to calm down. After all, its not doing anything to me. I'm in no danger right now. Unless I choke on an acorn.

The little guy seems satisfied, and continues to inspect it further, drawing some more curiously out of their defensive stances. I flash a grin back at Tyl, who rolls his eyes at me. The toddler Ewoks aren't scrambling all over him anymore; they seem to be hiding behind his back and arms, clinging tightly and sticking their noses out as the elders relax. They abandon a greatly relieved Tyl and start tugging on me along with the rest of the group we were eating with.

It's a calm atmosphere again, but I still feel tense, and my muscles seem ready to spring at the drop of a hat. I tug my arm away, and use my hand to wipe the sweat off my forehead again.

"Relax." says Tyl's deep voice in my ear. "They're not trying to kill you."

"I'm _fine_. Just worked up from today's _action_." I throw at to him. I hear him merely yawn, and ruffle my already twig-and-leaf stuck hair.

But I'm not. That's the thing. I'm not jittery at all about being kidnapped by Ewoks. There's... something else, something I can't place my finger on.

...

_BOOM._


	11. Chapter XI

**Author's Note: **This chapter is a little short, butthe shortness is, actually, inevitable, as you will find out. I haven't started the next chapter... I have two directions I could take it in and I haven't decided which way I want it to go. x.x

**pip: **Thank you:D I'm glad you're enjoyin'.  
**Dovasary: **xDDDDDDDD Nope. Not any of those. He knows _of_ him, but who doesn't? Haha, you thought that was funny? Interesting. Tell me of you think it's funny after this chappie. - shifty eyes -

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Everyone was on their feet within one second, including Tyl and I. Tyl already had his blaster out and pointed, and I my lightsaber, humming at my side. The Ewoks had their spears and bows and slings with them, while the children were being ushered into a hut.

_Boom_.

Another one. Somewhere ahead of us (formerly behind, Tyl and I had to turn around), a large branch had been torn off of its trunk. In other platforms, the inhabitants of this village were already armed and ready.

_Boom, boom_.

A ripple in the Force. My lightsaber twisted around behind me, and I felt a shock go through my hand a blaster bolt was absorbed, just barely. I swung around, blocking two more.

"What the hell is going on?" Tyl shouted at me, returning the blaster fire. I see a human fall out of a tree three-hundred meters away.

"You're a hell of a shot!" I answer. The platform around us is turning scarce, as the Ewoks prepare to ambush those coming onto our platform. Tyl grabs my sleeve, and pulls me behind a hut as unmarked men make their way up the winding staircase.

"You didn't answer me!"

"I know, I can't!"

He rolls his eyes, and I take the opportunity to escape his clutch and attempt to cut off the path of entrance with my lightsaber.

Thing is, the lightsaber isn't a _real_ lightsaber. Yes, it can burn quite severely if I wanted it to, but I haven't yet graduated from the Academy, and one test is constructing my own real one. Which is why the blaster bolts weren't deflected, but absorbed.

Naturally, it merely charred the wood and did little cutting.

I was cut off by a strong hand on my wrist, wheeling me around, and my hand bearing the lightsaber flew out in retaliation at the unknown attacker.

"Damn it!" Tyl said, angrily, slapping my hand away, and rubbing bright pink, blistering flesh just under his eye. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

"You grabbed me!" I retaliate, but lower my saber.

"Here, this'll work better." he says, thrusting a blaster at me, which is slightly smaller than his though still in good condition. I power down my lightsaber and attach it to my belt.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, kid. Let's take cover, that's not gonna work in time."

I peer down and, yes, he was right. A few more rounds around the tree trunk and they were here.

"'Kay. Let's go." I agree, diving as a blaster bolt whizzed inches above my head.

"Damn..." I hear him mutter, and I look to see him touching the burn under his eye.

"Sorry." I grin at him, but it slides off my face as I check the entrance to the platform. "Any idea what's happening?" I mutter, discreetly aiming my blaster, fixing it on the entrance.

"None. Who'd attack the Ewoks? Other than Imperials, but they wouldn't come all the way over here to get revenge on Ewoks, and these guys aren't marked like Imperials. My guess is that they're part of a private brigade by some rich guy. Slave or illegal spice trader." he mused.

"Good p - _dammit_!" I duck as a shower of fire is thrown at us. I hear a cry, and the blaster fire stops long enough for me to glance up and aim. Tyl is already shooting away, but I hesitate.

I have never killed anyone before.

These people were definitely enemies, but...

My eyes focus on those of a particularly young one, couldn't be older than nineteen. He was hidden partially behind a box, shooting at us. His eyes are brilliantly blue, and hold so much concentration, and memory. All I can think of is, in a very different scenario, that could have been my Uncle Luke. Years and years ago, if I were Imperial, this _boy_ could have been Luke, a farmer from Tatooine, with friends and a past and interests and a life...

In that scenario, I would be killing my mother's brother.

...But I cringe, and pull the trigger anyways.

Little Luke is thrown back by the force from my blaster bolt, and lies motionless on the floor.

I stare, numb, unable to move, and am met by a blinding pain. Burning, throbbing. Damn, the pain is too much. Pain like I've never felt, pain that I've never known reality is capable of. I barely feel my head hitting the wood panels underneath me, it is absorbed like a prick of a needle among a wall of knives. The blaster given to me by Tyl slips from my fingers.

Gods, I can't see.

I can't think.

I can't even damn hear.

The pain...

Beautiful, light bronze eyes are boring into mine, concern...

I can't see, it's blurring, the eyes are lost in a sea of shades of beige...

My vision is darkening, it's turning night rapidly, everything with a blue hue, navy, black hues...

Soon enough, there is no color, no feeling.

The pain has ended.

It's all black.


	12. Chapter XII

**Author's Note: **Whew, sooner up than I expected.Sort of filler, but that's okay, because it's necessary.  
And this is comepletely irrelevant, but I'm just now getting rehooked into Diablo II, and I managed (yes, dorky me) to associate all the Diablo II characters with Star Wars characters. _Assassin: _Mara Jade, for obvious reasons. _Sorceress (my personal favorite): _Leia. Only because she's kick-ass, and she has magic and Leia has Force-sense. _Druid:_ Han. Okay, druid has magic, but I couldn't make Han the big ugly barbarian! _Barbarian:_Boba Fett. Sorry to all you Boba fans out there, but if you'd notice, Boba has Wookiee scalps attached to his belt and that's sorta barbaric._Amazon:_ Padmé. Beause she's kick-ass but no Force-sense. _Paladin:_ Luke, for obvious reasons. _Necromancer:_ Palpatine, because he's old and ugly and uses Dark Magic. And in Episode III Palpatine promises to save Padmé from death, which is necromancer-ish.

**Dovasary: **Dead? Would I be that evil? xD The scrambler... well, that's really my head. I take a word - any word - make it backwards, add letters, replace letters, take out letters, switch letters- and hey, that's how you get a name. xD  
**Kal's Gal: **And I'm goin'...  
**pip: **Cool:D I love it when people get hooked. - subtly points at Dova - xDD Just kidding.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

All I can say is that unconciousness is bliss. Everything's still black, but I had awoken to an incessent pricking on my already aching back. Aching, as in stinging and burning. I try to move, but my wrists and ankles are held in binders, and any movement that involves my spinal cord, seemingly, causes extreme and utter pain.

"Why the hell are we wasting all this money repairin' her? I say throw the damn princess in a cell with the rest of 'em."

"Do we have to go over this again? First off, no one's gonna wanta buy a faulty slave, second, this girl here is Syrmé Carr, 'ccordin' to the records. She's missin', yeh know that? 'magine the reward when Master finds we've helped 'im git 'mmunity from slave laws the R'public set up. Broken girl equals no immunity."

"Who the hell is Syrm Carr?"

"_Syrmé_, you idiot. Runaway of Princess Organa's. Don'tchoo ever watch the news?"

"Damn idjits."

"Whatever. Hand me that, will yeh?"

Unable to talk, although brimming in terror, I feel a new prick in my back, sending me through another wave of pain.

"Damn. Master's a hell of a shot, in'ee?" says Guy No. Two.

"Uh-huh. Turns out the girl shot his son - " _Oh, gods, don't remind me of that._ " - So he aimed right at 'er. Dunno if he meant to get 'er in between the bones and straight at the nerve column, but that sure did the trick, din'it?"

"Mm. Guy next to her was doin' more damage, intil she went down. Reckon 'e's 'er dad?"

"Klin, how many times do I gottah tell yeh? This is Syrmé Carr. That other guy is prolly 'er kidnapper."

"Oh. Yeh. Prolly."

Silence again, other than the clink of tools and the hard breathing of the men above me.

If I was able to, I probably would have started to hyperventilate a long, long time ago.

These men know who I am. No doubt they hacked into my medical records, or saw my picture on the holonews - even if I most likely do look a little worse for wear.

Oh, damn, damn, damn, I'm going to be sent back home and probably locked in my chained and barred room for the rest of my life, and I'll abandon Tyl just like his wife did and leave him alone and he'll find out that I've been lying to him this whole time -

Well, it's not like I can invite him over for Independence Dinner, anyway. Even if he does make a mean Alderaanian stew that my mom would love.

Because my mom would be cooking and not want him to bring anything over, but knowing him he'd do it anyways and then mom would be insulted and throw him out of the house and he'd be forever doomed -

Maybe these painkiller drugs are doing something to me. Even if they aren't working for the pain very well. Or maybe I was in so much pain before that any more dosage on me would be fatal.

What the hell, I'd prefer that. Damn things made me blind, anyway. _Immunity _that, you krething idiots.

* * *

Before I know it, I'm transported through somewhere and placed... somewhere else. It's colder in here, and my back still stings like hell. The floor under me seems to be durasteel, but I can't be quite certain, I'm still doped up on spice. There is something remotely... fuzzy next to me, and something remotely... not fuzzy on my other side.

"You're here." says a voice on my not-fuzzy side.

"I..." I was at a loss for words. Literally, I couldn't think of any more Basic words. Due to the painkillers, I suppose. "I can't see." A feel a slight pressure at the side of my neck, and a touch on my hands, as if checking for signs.

"Unige. Common painkiller spice. Your eyesight will return soon."

"...Where am I?"

"Amo Mot'n's barge. Slave trader, like I guessed." said the voice, sourly.

"...Who are you?"

_'Someone who loves you.'_ said a young, familiar voice inside my head. I couldn't place it. What the hell...?

"It's Tyl, you idiot, who else would it be?"

I refrained from saying 'someone who loves me', because that didn't seem to fit, and if people were talking inside my head I certainly didn't want Tyl to know that.

"Dunno. They were talking and they weren't you."

"What?"

"Klin and his friend."

"...Who?"

"They know who I am. You have to help me, Tyl. They're going to turn me in. And you. You kidnapped me. That's what they say."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Klin and guy number one!" I say, completely exasperated. Doesn't he _get_ it?

"Sure. Okay, too much spice for you today..."

"No! I'm serious. Klin doesn't watch news. They know who I am! We have to get out of here!"

"Calm down, Mtyle, no one's out to get you..."

"That's what you think. Not Mytle! Not Mytle!"

"Never knew Unige had these side effects. Huh. You're not ever pronouncing your own name right."

"No! Not my name. Not Mytle. They know."

"Good gods, rest, fall asleep, you'll hopefully snap outta this, you're gonna need it..."

I mutter some senseless comback, but take his advice, and calm down.

He'll know what I'm talking about tomorrow, I'll explain it more thorou...

* * *

I awake, and, frankly, I have no idea whether it was night or day (because I still can't see), but it doesn't seem to matter. My back is still hurting like hell. Except the pain is dull and throbbing, and next to stinging and burning, I would say that that was an achievement. It's all stiff-like, and I feel underneath my dirty flight suit that they had wrapped the area with a stiff bandage (which is, of course, the cause of the stiffness).

A moan must have escaped my lips, because I there is a rustle next to me, and Tyl started speaking.

"You alright?"

Yeah, when you get past my dully aching back and now throbbing headache I'm in perfect health.

"Mm."

"Has the spice worn down?"

"Mm?"

"Dunno. You were babblin' on about something yesterday. D'you remember?"

"Mm-mm."

Was I? Honestly, I have no idea what he's talking about. Oh gods, no, did I give up my identity?

"Whatever. We'll talk later, 'kay? Find a way to get outta here. I sure as hell am not gonna become a slave _again_."

"Slv?" I mutter.

"Yeah, right. You prol'ly don't remember. We're on a slave barge, as well as most of the Ewoks. The ones that didn't get killed in the attack, anyways."

Oh no. The Ewoks.

"Get some more sleep. I'll wait 'til you're fully awake before we can come up with an escape plan." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

That's the last I hear, and I drift into sleep again.

* * *

"Come on little princess," says a nasty voice, followed by a hiss as a door opens. "We're going to contact mommy now."

My head shoots up, sends a shoot of pain throughout my spine, and I lay it back down again. I had caught a glimpse of a gross, dirty man in a remarkably clean green uniform.

Well, at least I could see again.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Author's Note: **Okay, the only reason that I'm not gone is because United Airlines is being a bitch. 'Nuff said. Anyhow, I'm hoping to finish this today, and I'll post the chapters periodically (hopfully) throughout my trip, when I get the chance. But I want more reviews...!

**Dovasary: **xDD I was just kidding with you, I hope you know that. And sorry about the scrambler; its not a computer, I just sort of... made it up... And, yeah, I liked that line. I was planning on putting that in there somewhere, and I found the perfect place there. Diablo II is a frankly awesome computer game made by Blizzard Entertainment. But I'm pissed off at it, because it bugged on me after two hours of playing with no save. x.x Yeah, I've read one - Hatchet. I liked it.  
**yellow-lily: **Lol, that's fine, but here's another.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN **

"Now, little girl, read what's on the screen as soon as Master's done. Got it?" snarls the same dirty man. All I do is swallow and nod, a TL-44 pressed into my back by the 'guard' behind me. I could feel every little shift the guy makes, because it sends pain up my spine again.

Damn people never heard of bacta, seemingly.

As they set up the comm call, I tok the opportunity to survey my surroundings. There are a ton of guards, which are out of view, in case I try to escape. Yeah. An unarmed fifteen-year old girl with a spinal injury is a big threat. There's that gross man in the nice uniform, a couple of technicians, and my gaze passes over a tall, sturdy man (who I assume to be 'Master', or Amo Mot'n) and to the man on his right.

Boy, rather.

And now I can't breathe, and the already tight knot in my stomach gives a painful jolt.

Oh crap.

I went through all this trouble because I killed someone for the first time, and the moron isn't even dead.

From the looks of it, he's the slave trader's son.

And from the look he's giving _me_, he knows exactly who the cause of his injuries was.

Those brilliant, Luke-like eyes were narrowed into tiny slits, his nose scrunched up just the right amount and his mouth is just so perfectly tight that I swear that his glare must have been practiced.

Unable to muster the strength (or courage, not easily found in this situation) to return a scowl, I look away and at the viewing screen, where there's some flickering and then a clear image.

It's my mother.

And I'm pretty sure _she's_ practiced _that_ glare as well.

Luckily (I guess), Amo Mot'n steps in front of me, and his smile is so fake that I don't even need to use the Force to sense his greed.

"Your Highness, Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker." he said politely, with a little bow, dragging his abominable son down to do the same.

What about Carr? Did he forget that she had a husband?

I wait for my mother to correct him, but she doesn't.

"Mr. Amo Mot'n. I'm glad to have recieved your call. I believe that you have found my daughter, is that so?" My mother inquires, perfetly diplomatic. Well, of course he has, she just saw me right here.

"It's so, Your Highness. She's right here." he steps aside to allow my mother to see me. A flashing catches my eye, and I realize it's coming from the screen I'm suppposed to be reading off of. In big, red letters, it says **SMILE**.

The blaster tightens against my back, and my cringe quickly turns into a gracious smile. Who says I can't lie?

"Hi mom."

"Syrmé - " she starts. Gods, she's angry. But, again, luckily (I guess), Mot'n interrupts her.

"Your Highness, if you'd excuse me, there are a few things that I should inform you before you start to talk with your daughter. First off, it's not her fault in any way, concerning her dissapearance. We found her on Correlia, and a man was with her. We believe him to be her kidnapper, because he had taken her lightsaber, and there was a small, unnoticable blaster pressed up against her back."

Yeah, just like the large one trained on me right now?

"As you may know, I am the Cheif of the Law Enforcement of Correlia, so we immediatley apprehended him and took protective costudy of your daughter, Syrmé Carr. As you see." he smiles again.

My mother nods. Her anger is a bit died down, although its hard to tell, because her face is so straight and calm.

"And who is this man, Mr. Mot'n?"

"Tyl Olos is his name, according to the records. ... I must admit, not much is known of him, except the necessary information: height, eye color, weight, etcetera. I assure you that my men are doing a lengthy background check to try to dig up any more information on him." And yet another smile.

"I thank you. Now, for the arrangements to bring my daughter back home..."

The screen was flashing again. My eyes dart to it.

"Wait. Mom." I said, haltingly, staring at the screen.

"Yes?" she looks at me seriously.

"I would just like to say that I am very sorry about the sadness and trouble I must have caused you and our family. I hope you can fogive me." I stare at the screen, and I feel a frown cross my features. "Forgive me." I correct. Idiots forgot how to spell 'forgive'.

My mom ever so slightly perks an arched eyebrow. I can't blame her. I don't talk like this, but, hey, it's on the screen...

"Mr. Amo Mot'n has been very gracious torwards me when he found me on Correlia. He gave me plenty of food and rest and medicine and a large five-star hotel suite on his yacht." _Is this necessary?_ "I pray that you..." I blink. "Reward him well." I shake my head lightly, confused.

By now my mom's eyebrow is reaching her hairline, but she quickly lowers it. "I shall." she says, carefully, looking at me pointedly. "And no need to be forgiven, Syrmé... _dearest_." A hint of a smirk. "This most definitely is not your fault."

I restrain a snort at her subtle mocking of my halted, awkard speech. She knows something is up, now. Die, you slave-drivers.

"Now, Mr. Mot'n, for the transfer arrangements..."

"Ah, one moment, Your Highness. I would like to propose some negotiations..."

"Negotiations?" My mother almost snaps at him. "For the transfer of my daughter to my home?"

"Well, yes, I mean, even Ms. Carr says I should be rewarded."

My mother's eyes glance over at me, and I give her a look that I hope plainly says '_just go with it_'.

"Go on..."

"Well see, ah, Your Highness. I am in a very delicate position here. You see, I have some... special cargo, and I would very much like it if you loosen the laws when it concerns me - or immunization, if you will."

"What laws?" My mother's voice had lost all politeness, and it came cutting with a cold, hard edge.

"The slave laws."

I hear a few sounds of disbelief coming from mom's end, out of view, which made me certain that Luke and Mara were watching.

"I hope for your sake that you are joking, Mot'n." My moms says warningly after a pause.

"Ah, no."

"Well, unfortunatley for you, even if that _was _in my control I wouldn't even think about accepting it. Now, you will meet me at Coruscant - the exact coordinates will be transferred - where my daughter will be handed over to me, and if it happens peacefully I will help lessen your sentence for the transferring and owning of slaves. How about those negotiations, Mr. Mot'n?" Mom asks smoothly.

Okay, I pride her on her morals and wit, but those negotiations really don't put me in a good position.

"I'm afraid I'll have to refuse, _Your Majesty_." Amo snarls at her.

"Then I'm sorry."

And the screen goes blank.

Dammit.


	14. Chapter XIV

**Author's Note: **The updates will be sort of... well, gradual, but they'll happen. :)

**pip: **xD Yeah, it kinda was. And the story picks up from here.  
**GreatOne: **... --;  
xD Just kidding.  
**yellow-lily: **Aye, the plot doth...  
**Doreen: **Thanks. :)) Glad you're enjoying it.  
**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

The door hissed closed behind me, and I slowly made my way over to the bench, where Tyl was, apparently, sleeping. As well as Tyl and I, there are four Ewoks, all in a big pile in the far corner. I lower myself slowly onto the bench.

"Move." I command Tyl.

"No."

I sigh, and groan as I turn to lay down against the hard surface. At least it supports my back. My head found its pillow on Tyl's left thigh, and he opens one eye to peer down at me.

"What're you doing?"

"Trying to sleep, so you can shut up now."

He mutters something senseless, but surprisingly permits me to use his leg as a headrest.

Since I have little better to do, I fall asleep again.

* * *

The next week came and went. And I learned that time passes slowly when you're caged up in a cell. Tyl and I tried to talk, but we eventually ran out of things to talk about. 

On the plus side, they seemed to have discovered bacta, so I bathed in it for a few hours, and came out with my back feeling almost as good as new. Of course, the nerves that were hit can never be fully repaired, but I hadn't expected to come out of that thing as good as new. Obviously, although, they're going to sell me now, which is why they're 'repairing' me. Like Guy Number One says, no one's gonna want to buy a faulty slave.

The halls of this place are blindingly white, and the loudspeaker is blaring something I don't care to listen to right now. I'm being half-heartedly escorted by two men back to my cell. I sigh, peering around blearily. I'm certainly catching up on my sleep, at least.

Suddenly, another ripple in the Force.

It starts to flow through me rapidly. It's exalting, exciting, ecstasy. I stop, and my escorts start to complain. I only half hear them before I say,

"Give me your blaster."

The Force is so strong and the guy is so weak-minded that he obeys. I grab the blaster out of his hands and, before his buddy can react, I set for stun and shoot both of them.

That was easy.

Nevermind.

There are more coming around the corner.

They all have their blaster out, and in a panic I just start shooting. Some fall, but my shots are completely wild and random and desperate, and they just bounce off the walls.

_Three yards_...

Two more fall.

_Two yards_...

Another two.

_One yard_...

None, because I am completely distracted by a sudden glowing red door at the end of the corridor to my left. It collapses out of its frame just as the brutes that guard this barge shove me forcefully against the wall, and rip the blaster out of my hands.

But I don't miss it.

In rushes my mother, lightsaber powered and ready.


	15. Chapter XV

**Author's Note: **Okay, people, I'm really excited about this one. I would have had it up earlier -- but the internet wasn't working for, like two days. x.x

**yellow-lily: **... Zap? xD  
**GreatOne: **Lol, did you expect her to just bandon Syrmé like that?  
**Dovasary: **Oh, that sucks. xD Halfway though writing 'No Reward Is Worth This', I minimized it for a moment, and then it wasn't there anymore. x.x I had to rewrite it. Leia tried to be diplomatic, but her patience is a little bit shorter when it's her daughter that's in question.

**

* * *

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**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

I have never fully appreciated that my mother is Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker.

I know she's a fighter, and strong. I know she was fearless in the days of the Rebellion. I heard it, but it sort of passed over me. Now I'm experiencing it firsthand.

She's in a pristine white, loose-fitting tunic and slacks. In high contrast to the white is a black blaster attached to her leg, and her flecked-gray dark hair is in a elegant, braided knot at the back of her head. She's so small, but the lightsaber in her hand seems to completely enlarge her. She handles it delicately, yet firmly, somehow.

But her face, her expression.

It's the same as it was when she was contacted; cool, calm, collected. But its even more intensely powerful with a blaster at her hip and a powered lightsaber in her grip.

It was a powerful enough of an image to make my assailers stop and stare. After a moment's pause, I was let go, and the shooting started.

Their random blaster bolts were easily deflected as my mother runs against them, a blue glow around her as the bolts were quickly deflected. I roll out of the way of the red lasers hitting the wall around me, effectively tripping one. Eventually, they are all on the ground, and slightly smoking.

Mom rushes up to me, powering down her lightsaber and pulling me into a tight, desperate embrace. My arms find their way around her, and I finally relax.

I realize that I hadn't relaxed since I ran away. But it's so easy now. Her hair smells the same, her arms feel the same, her breathe sounds the same. And it's comforting. Deeply comforting.

She finally pulls away, settling a kiss on top of my forehead.

"Come on. I've gotta get you out of here." she says quietly, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the door where she came from. "Oh - " she paused, took something out of a small pouch near her blaster, and tossed it at me.

I quickly grab it out of the air, feeling a rough, small handle of a lightsaber meet my fingers. It's a much older model than Luke's or Mara's or my mother's.

"Whose is this?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi gave it to your uncle, long ago. It's Anakin's."

"My grandfather's?"

"Yes. I'm giving it to you just in case we run into any more trouble."

I study it for a moment, then resolutely clip it to my belt.

"Where's Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara?"

"Trying to take control of the ship." she answers simply. "Hopefully Mot'n doesn't try to put up too much of a fight."

"Knowing him, he'll try to save himself and as many of his valuable slaves as he can." I answer grimly.

Then an image of Tyl comes into my head, and that makes me stop in my tracks. I remember his expressing his desire to escape, and his defiance in becoming slave _again_.

I can't leave him here. I don't _want_ to leave him here.

Mom is giving me a weird, exasperated look.

"Syrmé, we can't stop now! Keep going!"

I look her in the eye. "Mom, we have to get someone. A friend of mine. Tyl Olos."

"…Honey, I promised Luke and Mara we'd meet them. They're worried _sick_ about you, you have no idea what you caused – forget the tabloids – everyone's been stressed out since that little stunt of yours, then we find your abandoned ship on Coruscant and rumors – "

I sigh, and run a hand over my face.

"Can we discuss this later?"

"Of course. Because we have to meet your aunt and uncle." she replies firmly.

"Mom! C'mon, he's a good guy – sure he swears and threatens and is rude – but otherwise he's alright! I mean, you wouldn't like him – I didn't at first – but he's extremely honest – well, in a way - " I stop, attempting to organize my thoughts.

She lets out a breathe. "Listen, the ship is going to be in the Republic's hands shortly, and I assure that he'll be fine - "

"Mom! He might be taken by Mot'n if Mot'n tries to escape! The rest of the slaves are Ewoks!"

"Ewoks?"

"We were on Endor when we were taken."

"No. It's too dangerous. He'll be fine."

"What would you do if Uncle Luke, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Han Solo hadn't risked their lives to rescue you from the Death Star? Hell, Kenobi _sacrificed_ his."

My mom opened her mouth, then shut it again, looking confused and angry.

"You'd better know where he is."

I beam at her, and let go of her hand and turn around, leading her along the corridor that she had initially come from. I hop over the collapsed door, over the bodies of the men, and down a few more corridors, my mother following my lead. I reach the cell block; the door coincidentally opens as I reach it. I'm about to step in, but my mother grabs my arm.

_Wait_.

The message in my head comes clearly, and I nod and stop just outside the doorframe. My mother takes the blaster off of her hip - I remember her saying it's her favorite in situations where an ambush is likely - and takes a tentative step in, then quickly retreats as bolts scorch the ground at her feet. She sends a small, mischievious smirk at me. I laugh lightly.

She then faces the doorway and starts firing rapidly. I hear grunts and thuds of people falling on the floor, and she runs in, me following her heel.

"Go get him!" she yells at me over her shoulder, still firing. I nod, jumping over a few bolts coming my direction, and land near the wall where our weapons are held.

Along with the tiny blaster that Tyl gave me and my own weak lightsaber is Tyl's blaster, so I pocket both of mine and take Tyl's into my hand. He's gonna need it.

My mother had been backing away in my direction, her blaster returned to its place and her lightsaber replacing it. Many more men had arrived at the door, and there were so many bolts that she had to reflect them. She takes a moment to glance at the heavy blaster in my hand.

"What's that?"

I pause in step.

"Tyl's blaster, he's going to need it in this." I reply, gesturing, a blaster bolt sizzling past my hand.

"DL-44?"

I inspect the blaster. "I suppose that's what it is. Why?"

She shrugs. "No reason."

Contemplating the necessity to have a conversation more worthy of discussion over tea at this time, I shrug as well, and make my way down the corridor until I reach my (old) cell. I press the pad next to the door and it opens.

Consequently, Tyl falls out (apparently, he was just pressing his ear against the door in an attempt to hear what was going on).

I drag him out of the doorway (the doors have a special mechanism in which they close automatically after four seconds, probably because they're for prisoners), and the door shuts. I bend over him, then drop his blaster on his stomach. He lets out an '_oof_', and picks it up.

"Great." he smirks, then picks himself off the floor. "Rescuin' me?"

"You know it. We didn't need the plan after all; my family came and got us." I gesture at my mother, who is barely discernable through the shower of blaster bolts and the whizzing of her lightsaber. He nods.

"You guys need some help?"

"That'd be nice."

He positions his blaster, and starts shooting. I don't dare; I'm not nearly good enough with a blaster for my shots to evade my mother, who is blocking the tiny corridor with her body and the lightsaber. His bolts pass her rapid lightsaber easily, one by one bringing down our attackers. Between that and her deflection, the bolts against us lessened. It would have been done much more quickly if she were as experienced as Luke, who would have been able to deflect each bolt straight back at the shooter, consequently bringing them down.

One bolt slips past the rapid lightsaber, and with a curse Tyl pushes both of us down, looking flustered and angry as he stands back up.

"Stop godsdamn tryin' to deflect, take out your blaster and shoot!" he shouts angrily, earning a slap from me.

"It isn't that easy, laserbrain!" My mom screams from where she's standing, taking a step back as more reinforcements come to the front door. Tyls response comes quickly, automated, and easily.

"Well, _pardon me_, Pri - " he starts to spit at her, then stops; I watch as a wave of utter confusion passes over his features.


	16. Chapter XVI

**yellow-lily: **Lol, yeah, 'tis again!  
**PIP: **Thank you:DD I hope four days isn't that long, but I didn't have that much time to write - I was a t a camp twelve hours each day. x.x  
**dm1: **;)

**_Well, here we go, everyone..._**

**

* * *

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**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"_Stop that. …My hands are dirty."_

"_My hands're dirty too, what're you afraid of?"_

"_Afraid?"_

"_You're trembling."_

"…_I'm not trembling."_

"_You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."_

"_I happen to like nice men."_

"_I'm a nice man."_

"_No you're not, you're…"_

Shock. Defiance. Love.

"Absolutely_, Your Worship. Look, I had everything under control till you led us down here! Ya know, it's not gonna take 'em long to figure out what happened to us!"_

"_It could be worse."_

"…_It's worse."_

Annoyance. Irritation. Aggravation.

"_I'm goin' away for a few days."_

"_Where? And can't it wait? Luke's birthday is next week!"_

"_You mean it's _your_ birthday and you want me there?"_

"_Well… yeah."_

"_Don't worry, I'll be back by then. Just visitin' an old smugglin' buddy of mine on Haruun Kal. He just had a baby, and for some reason he wants me there. Dunno. I guess he idolized me, or somethin'."_

_A small laugh. "Fine. I'll have Chewie skin you alive if you're not back in five days."_

"_I promise."_

"_You swear?"_

"_Hey. It's me."_

"_Like that's gotten you anywhere."_

_A pause, then, more quietly, "I love you, Princess."_

"_I know you do, Han."_

…

Anger. Grief. Pain.

Longing.

* * *

And then it hits me. It hits me hard.

But… it can't be. Tyl is…

No. It's not possible.

But it is.

This blast of… memory and… emotion. It proves it. None of it's mine. It's all… my mother's and… his.

I remember what he had said, all those days ago_: '…decided to visit a few friends of mine who lived in the Pelek Baw settlement on the planet Haruun Kal. Kissed the wife goodbye and took off with my copilot… …kidnapped by slave merchants… …Soon enough, there was a little girl, couldn't be older than four, trailing after her, clutching her hand. On that hand was a ring…'_

It fit. He changed a few key elements to throw anyone off his track…

He wanted to be dead. And it worked. It worked remarkably.

Everything happens in tantalizing slow motion. Barely moments pass, and two lightsabers, green and purple, slash their way through the reinforcements at the door, just as my mother's lightsaber depowers and clatters on the floor.

I raise my deep brown eyes to my mother's, mine a reflection of hers. I see fear, confusion, nostalgia, shock, reminiscence. Hers slowly pass from mine – they are welling with unshed tears – to those of the man beside me.

I look at Luke's piercing blue gaze down the hall, and he meets my eyes square. He's disbelieving. I know it. I feel it.

All of our attackers are dead, so my aunt gently presses the pad to close the door.

I look at Luke again. He's shaking his head, but those brilliant blue eyes are fixated upon the man to my left.

My glance slides over to Mara; her radiant green pass over from Luke, in concern, to me. She's tense, though not quite as… encumbered as my mother and her twin. She looks apologizing, and shocked as well.

My gaze shoots – slowly, somehow – back to my mother. She's sinking slowly to the floor, and I reach to help. My hand moves in the air stiffly, her knees collapse not nearly as fast as reality should have it; her dark brown, beautiful, ever-the-same gaze is clouding.

Then, finally, I look at the person who's the cause of all of this emotion, shock, fear, confusion, disbelief.

And my brown eyes connect directly with the cool, slightly narrowed, hazel gaze of Han Solo.


	17. Chapter XVII

**Author's Note: **Okay, peeps, I was just so pumped from th last chapter that my fingers just flew through this one.And I know a lot of you 'knew it' -- but you gottah give me the credit of at least half-convincing a few of you ( - doubtful - ). ...Right? xD

**Rouge: **Lol, thanks. Well, here's more, you didn't have to wait that long. :D  
**PIP: **oo; - glances nervously at **Author's Note** - Uhm. xD Well, yeah, I suppose you can have a montage in writing. If that's what I was doing. ;D  
**GreatOne: **- innocent -0:)- snatches Hanny-bear - ...Mine. xD  
**Dovasary: **Don't scare those poor children now... oo; Haha, but thank you. - pat - Uhm... I told you? I didn't really tell anyone but my sister... and it's not like she cares what I write. xD

**

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**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN **

If my mother had appeared faint before, it couldn't be any more different now. I felt a strong pull from the Force coming from her; she regained control of her legs, and her eyes focused almost unnaturally quickly. The fingers of her right hand jerk outward stiffly, and the lightsaber flies straight into it. She clips it to her belt, and I feel Tyl – Solo slowly straighten to his full height behind me.

Both are angry, and even more bewildered. I feel it more easily than I would the heat of Tatooine.

I'm having trouble digesting this all, myself.

I mean… how could it be? Well, I know how it _could be_, but…

They have all lied to me, this whole time. Luke, Mom, and possibly Mara: about my parents' marriage, how Mom and Han were just friends, they never bothered to tell me they were lovers, for some reason…

Tyl – I mean, Solo. Or Han. He made up a fake name, a fake history, an elaborate lie about himself, to avoid any confrontation with my mother or my family… '_…there was a little girl, couldn't be older than four…_' That was me. He saw me, my mother's child, my father's child, and decided not to intrude. Decided it would be better to _stay_ dead, rather than become alive and hurt everyone in the process.

Too bad he didn't know my father and mother didn't love each other, it was a _marriage of convenience_…

"_You_!" My mother's hiss jerks me out off my thoughts, and everyone watches her close the gap between her and Solo. Then she shocks everyone – Solo most of all – by smacking him hard on the face.

"Leia!" Luke shouts warningly, taking a step forward. My mother ignores him.

"You _coward_!" she screams. "I preferred it when you were dead!"

Silence follows this.

That was harsh.

I look over at Han; his face is hard and tense, with a set, defiant jaw and dark, narrowed eyes. I already know how Solo is taking this.

"Glad to see you missed me." he replies coolly. "Let alone _remembered_; that's a shocker."

"What are you talking about?" she spits.

"Leia…"

"WHAT?" she screams at Luke, turning around and scowling at him as well.

Everyone looks at him simultaneously. He seems unperturbed.

"Calm down." he warns simply.

My mother turns away from Solo, taking a deep breathe. I try and swallow, but realize that this whole time my mouth had been as dry as a sun-baked Bantha.

He crosses his arms, his glare deepening as my mother starts to turn around.

"You." she repeats through clenched teeth, pointing a finger at his face but restraining from hitting him again. "You've been alive all this time!" she accuses.

"Obviously."

"You're incorrigible." She's seething and boiling over with rage, and wipes at an eye quickly. I feel her glance at Luke as he looks at her sternly, then she pulls from the Force to calm down. "You left me, alone and – "

"Leia!" Luke said loudly and hastily.

"_What do you want_?"

"Yeah, kid, can't you see she's tryin' to yell at me? Added plus if she gets a guilt trip." he adds nastily.

And that was the last straw for my mother. She does what I've never seen her do before.

She sits on the floor, a good four feet away from Solo and against the wall, then a stifled sob escapes her throat.

"Good job." I shoot at him, crossing the hall over to her. His mouth opens, but he's interrupted by Mara.

"Don't. We're all adults here… well, almost." she says, looking uneasily at me as I sit and comfortingly lean my head against my mother's shoulder.

"I _am_ an adult." I protest.

"'_Adult_?'" Mom interrupts, almost in hysterics. Her pale face is ashen now, the sides of her face framed with loose, flyaway wisps and tear trails down her cheeks. I feel a pang of sorrow, and of regret; my mother is so strong, it takes a lot to unnerve her at this degree. "You call _him_ an 'adult'? He did possibly the most childish thing he could!"

"_Childish_?" He asks, incredulously. "Listen, _Princess_, there was nothin' _childish _about the _hell_ I called a life for the first six years!"

"Oh, yes, that's right, it's really hard to run out on me then avoid everyone until the rumors about your disappearance _dissipated_."

"Mom…" I suppose that I should interject before this turns into a yelling match that goes on for hours.

"Stay out of this. You don't know this man… and I don't either."

"I just spent the past two weeks in _confined quarters _with him, I know him a lot better than you'd think." I argue.

"I'm shocked he didn't just _leave you to die_."

"Two whole weeks?" he rhetorically asks me, in mock bewilderment. "Gods, I'm surprised she just didn't get a new daughter by then. It'd be a _lot_ easier than waitin' for you to return."

I don't believe I'm included in this conversation anymore.

"Are you talking about Leo?"

"Lookie, Play-dumb Princess finally wizened up."

"…I hate you." she declared, standing and resolutely walking out, leaving all of us staring. I'm the first to look at Solo. He has his oh-so-stubborn air about him, leaving his persona depleted of any emotion other than sullenness and… stubbornness, except I notice his jaw is still clenched and I could tell through his eyes that he's upset; there's the same look in them as there was when he was first telling the 'Tyl Olos Disappearance Story'. Nonetheless, he looks nonchalantly at Luke.

"So, kid, how's it goin'?"


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Dovasary: **Oh, no no no. Beautiful compliment (it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside), but I don't think anyone come close to LL and her _NQLL_. But she did update early June - I remember, because I logged on before school and had a fit when I saw chapter sixteen. And she has, like, five-hundred-something reviews. - faints at thought of so many reviews - But, you're right, same ol' Han (who would think of changing him?). xDD Keep reviewing me, Dovasary, you always make me smile. :)  
**leias girl: **... xD I love it when people start making speculation about the storyline. It makes me feel important. :3 But thanks! (I'm not revealing anything, you'll have to wait and find out whether or not -- or, in the case of most people reading this, make a speculation that is totally opposite of what I'm telling you while pretending you grudgingly accept my assurances. Which really doesn't have much credit, come to think of it, since y'all were... right the first time. ... xD )

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter eighteen – a bit filler, and I had trouble deciding where I was going to take it and what was going to happen (hence the four-day wait), but hey, it's here.

**

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

"Are you joking?" Luke asks, staring at Han incredulously. I know Luke good enough to know that he wouldn't get into a yelling match, but I've never felt him so upset.

"I'll go with Leia, we don't know what's still on this ship." Mara declares, giving a reassuring smile at Luke and I before heading out the door. "Good luck, Solo." She throws over her shoulder with spite, before disappearing out of view. I rub the side of my head, slowly, still trying to take it all in.

"No, not really, jus' wonderin', seeing as I haven't seen you in… what, almost sixteen years?"

"Precisely. Han, I don't know what you were thinking when you bailed like that."

"I didn't _bail_." he snaps.

"Then what happened to you?"

"I - "

"Wait." Luke interrupted quietly, frowning. "Gods, she's gotten herself into trouble - " he mutters, stopping me as I open my mouth to demand what had happened. "Syrmé, I want you to go with Han to _The Escort_, and help him get the ship ready for hyperspace to Yavin. As soon as we come back and are on the ship, you're to get clear of the barge enough to make the jump." he says to Han.

"I'm not gonna be the one sittin' around." Solo argues.

"Me neither, if it's something to do with Mom I'm coming." I agree, making Luke rub his temples as if he were expecting us to protest.

"We don't have time for this, I don't want Syrmé to come but I don't want her going alone, either. I know very well that you can take care of yourself - " he says sharply, as my mouth opens again to protest. "But I don't want to take anymore chances with you."

"I'm not about to be her bodyguard! If you don't want her goin' alone, then you go with her!"

Well, that was nice of him. "I love you, too." I say to him sarcastically, and he responds with an eye roll.

"Well, see, you don't know where Leia is." Luke remarks, before disappearing out the door, leaving Solo and I with no choice but to cooperate with him.

"Well, come on." He says impatiently, waving his hand before sauntering out of the door. I catch up to him, falling into his stride.

"Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

Stupid question.

"Obvious reasons." he grunts. "What about you?"

I raise an eyebrow. That was a stupid question as well, seeing his relationship with my mother.

"Obvious reasons. If I told you, would you have taken my charter?"

"No. I wouldn't have reported you either, for the record."

"Why?" I ask, although already knowing the answer. He would have liked to see my mother suffer, and it's not like he knew me.

"Because." He offers as a legitimate answer. "Would you've flown with me if you knew who _I_ was?"

"Hell yeah. I would have interrogated you, though, I mean, you _were_ my mother's friend – or, I mean her… well, yeah…" I stop, leading us into an awkward silence. Damn! I just had to say that, didn't I?

He chooses to pretend as if he hadn't heard, which I'm grateful for. After all, we both know that he didn't 'bail' on her, even if he failed to tell Luke that. Not like it was his fault, anyways.

"You even know where this ship is at?"

"No. We'll just go to the docking bay and I'll find it. I mean, even if this place has more than one hangar, they're bound to be close to each other, right?"

I watch him as he ponders this. "Maybe. On the Death Star they had tons all over the station, but this ship isn't nearly as big. So I'm guessin' around three or four docking bays."

"Do you know where the docking bays are?"

"Aren't you leadin' us? Can't you just use the Force thing or whatever to find out?"

"I can't sense for the Force-signature of a _mechanical ship_."

"Oh. Well, that's useful."

"Sarcasm isn't useful right now…" I struggle with the next word. I'm not sure what to call him. Solo? Han? Tyl? "Han." I decide, since I've called him 'Tyl' in the past. I feel him look at me, but I keep my eyes forward.

"We're here." I hear him say a few minutes later, and I raise my eyes off the ground. Suspiciously, we had met no personnel on our way; we had seen them bustling the other way, with blasters ready in their hands, so my only conclusion is that my relatives had managed to get in a fight that's bigger than they intended.

"Wait." He mutters, giving me a slight push to the other side of the door and drawing his blaster. "We dunno who's in there, there're too many ships - "

" – That could hide attackers." I finish, smirking. "I wasn't about to walk in there; I'm not completely stupid."

"Glad to see I taught you well."

"You didn't. We were taught of ambush in school." I look away, blaster ready, just as he makes a face.

"D'you see your… mother's ship?" he asks quietly.

I twist, trying to get a glance at the hangar. Blaster fire rings out, and a line of red bolts narrowly misses me. Narrow, as in singing my sleeve.

"Didya see it?"

"Yeah," I answer, slightly out of breath. Can't blame me, I thought I was going to have to sport another blaster scar. "It's halfway down the hangar, on the left side. Small, ovalish."

"Okay. Keep your blaster out and lead the way. I'll cover you." I nod, stealing another glance at the bay before starting to step in. "Actually, better yet," (I screech to a halt) "as soon as you go in bank left; we won't be goin' blindly down the middle aisle an' we can see whoever's attackin' us and the other ships can cover us partway."

"Fine."

I head him mutter something in contempt about resorting to plans before I dive into the room. I feel heat around my legs as bolts warm the air, and I land on my hands before going into a neat roll and pulling out the blaster, returning fire. Surprisingly, most of my shots hit home, but I soon feel a tight, callused hand on my wrist jerking me unceremoniously to my feet and dragging me behind a ship.

"Good thing this place is small." Remarks Solo wryly, slightly out of breath as well. He ducks from behind the pedicle and shoots a few successive shots. I hear some grunts and thuds as they make their mark.

"Go!" he shouts, causing me to jump and tear off, hugging the left wall. I feel the metal behind me scorch by the blaster fire on my tail. Within a matter of seconds, I reach _The Escort_, and slide around quickly to the front, entering the pass code into the pad at the front. I feel Tyl – Han emerge behind me, trying to keep me from dying.

After the ramp doesn't lower, I look at the pad. There, in big bold letters, it says, '**ACCESS DENIED. ACCESS DENIED. ACCESS DENI **- ' Damn! I start to punch in the code again, halfway through feeling a slight prod through the Force, thereby jerking my hand away and watching the pad, six inches from my nose, suddenly get singed and darkened from a well-aimed shot.

"_Now_ what are we going to do?" he shouts angrily, and is answered by a need for diving out of the way as the ramp, amazingly, starts to lower. It hits the ground, and we both make to step on it, but it rises again, rapidly. And it does that again, and again, and a few more times as Han and I simply watch in perplexion.

"Dammit! Now the ramp's malfunctioning!" I say, accusingly, turning to glare at Han as if this was all his fault.

Crap. Now I'm sounding like Threepio.


	19. Chapter XIX

**GreatOne:**- pats Hanny-bear - (I almost had Syrmé call him that in the fanfic. x.x ) Well, yeah, he restrains because he's a pretty guarded person. Well, thats how I see him, he doesn't like to let people in (especially Leia, for this instance). And, well, youknow, it's Leia. But Leia sees him as a traitor and a liar, so that's why she flipped out on him. But yeah. I think they both are gonna feel a bit guilty.  
**Dovasary: **- faints at long review - Leia will be kinda both, in my opinion.  
:3 It is late July. So that means Limelight has to update. But yeah, I do that too, and my sister looks at me like I'm a freak. And aww. - feels special -  
x.x Sorry. I kinda had the chapter half finished before I found your review (for some reason I didn't get an e-mail alert). Besides. I already kinda had this planned out. Also, I'm evil because I want to torture you all by dragging out their... talk (or yelling match, however it comes). So, at _latest_, it will be in two chapters.  
And, I hope you know, if there was going to be any poor, lost Stormtrooper, she'd (aren't girl Stormtroopers forbidden? Whatever.) be modeled after yours truly. - licks Han -  
**pip: **Thanks:) Keep reading.  
**dm1: **Well, I _said_ that because I didn't want to _tell_you people. xD But yeah. It's a misunderstanding on both sides.  
**doreenthatshot: **Thanks. xD I know everyone knew. But I denied it anyways.

**Author's Note: **Okay, peeps. That remark about Threepio was meant to be totally allusion-istic. But, you know, then I got thinking. I have never written Threepio before. And it will be hilarious to have him annoy the hell out of Han as he tried to get things situated for the escape. So here we go. A Threepio-ful chapter.

1. Okay, peeps. To clear a few things up - Han and Leia, in the past, before he dissapeared, weren't married. He says they were in the 'Tyl Olos Dissapearance Story', to make things less difficult for himself - but if you'd notice, in Chapter Nine, he makes a teeny, _tiny_ slip that I'm sure nobody caught, because he rectified it so quickly. Apple pie to the person who figures out what that slip was.

**

* * *

CHAPTER NINETEEN **

"Just our luck!" Han shouts, sending a glance back as the ramp hit the ground and instantly starting raising again. I don't answer, just watch, and just as the ramp starts lowering again I leap into the little crevice created, trying to keep my balance as I roll to the side and find my feet on solid metal.

Thank the gods.

A thud and a grunt tells me that Han had followed me, which is a good sign because if he hadn't followed me that means that he's dead.

"How's everyone else gonna get in here with that ramp flippin' out like that?" I yell, more out of nerves than anything.

"You – get in the coordinates for that little moon o' yours and fire up the weapons! I'm fixin' this!"

Well, then I guess I should yell at him when he breaks the ramp. Well, more, than it's broken now, anyways.

"Hello. I am See-Threepio; human-cyborg relations. How may I be of service to you, sir?"

Han pauses in ripping off the part of the floor which held all the wires and such, then slowly turns his head.

The look on his face is priceless. Kinda like the time when…

Okay, I can't even think about an example. All I know is that it's a mixture of incredulity and dread.

Threepio gives a start of surprise, stiffly turning his head to look at me then back at Han.

"General Solo! What a pleasant surprise! Why, it certainly has been a while; I'm quite sure that Mistress Leia and Master Luke will be most pleased to find - "

"Threepio – shut up."

That came from me – not Han. But I did it for his safety, because Han's looking particularly murderous. Still, for an expressionless droid, he manages to look highly affronted.

"Now, really! I am simply pointing out that - "

"Yes, we know what you are pointing out."

"Now beat it." Han shot over to him while rerouting several wires. Threepio pattered away, muttering to himself (complaining loudly) about how even he doesn't quite understand the behavior of humans at all times.

"I can't believe you guys still have 'im." Han complained dully, ripping a wire out. I watch what he's doing, skeptically, for a while, before answering.

"Luke likes him… well, good luck." I grin at him over my shoulder, going to the cockpit, flipping a few switches, watching through the window as red blaster bolts fly past. My eye flit around the various lights… communications enabled… lighting enabled… emergency power recharged… I flip another switch, weapons enabled…

"OW!"

I wheel around in alarm.

"What happened?" I shout back to where Han was.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Just - " I can't suppress a snigger. "Getting the ship ready. Why? Did you hurt yourself?" I ask in a baby voice.

"NO." he yells defiantly.

"General Solo, are you _tampering_ with our ramp?" Threepio's affronted voice carries over into here, causing me to laugh harder.

"Dammit!" Han yells again.

"What is it _this_ time?" Now, this is getting annoying.

"They're tryin' to get in!"

Oh, crap.

Shots ring through the air amidst Threepio's shocked screams. I start down the hall, my blaster ready.

"No – no, stay there! Get the rest with the ships guns!" he yells at me. As if I'm stupid (well, I suppose I should have thought of that). "I got 'em here!"

I look around at the state of pandemonium that seems to follow Han. There are a few smoldering bodies, dangerously close to where Han is practically trapped. Threepio seems to have fallen over in surprise, and now is whining loudly as he attempts to pick himself off the floor. Last, but certainly not least, Han hadn't managed to fix the ramp and its still alternating from banging against the ship and against the floor, giving me brief glimpses of bodies out there as well.

"Are you almost done with that?" I yell, as he fires a few more successive shots outside.

"Yeah, I think - "

" – all your fault! My parts have slopped around, and I'm quite certain that my circuits are overridden – "

"Shut up, Threepio! You - " he points at me. "Get back to the cockpit!"

I contemplate disobeying him because of the rudeness of his command, but now, I guess, isn't really the right time for being a pighead. Without a nod, I race back to the cockpit, getting the weapons control into my hands and switching on the targeting computer. I aim, and then shoot where several are all hiding under a ship.

I know that a ship's weapons are powerful.

But I didn't know that the whole damn ship would explode.

I cringe as their Force-signatures disappear, but that thought diminishes as soon as I hear a yell of fury come from Tyl's… Han's end.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU _DO_?" he roars. I consider being a Luke and telling him 'anger is of the Dark Side', but he seems _really_ angry now.

"What! " I scream back at him.

"COME LOOK!"

I tear down the small corridor, then look at what he was pointing at.

_CRAP_.

Apparently, a large chunk of charred engine that came from the prior exploding ship had landed close enough to _our_ ship to pin the ramp underneath it.

"You told me to use the ships guns!" I accuse, pointing a finger at him.

"We're all going to die! Oh, dear, I didn't even say a proper good-bye to Mas – "

"I didn't tell you to explode a godsdamn ship!"

" – tress Leia, oh, how I _hate_ space travel – "

"They were all under it! It was inevitable!"

"Dammit, look, they're all comin' in now!"

I turn to look and, sure enough, more men with guns are making their way toward the ship.

"Crap!"

"Crap is right, you dimwit!"

I'm about to retort, but a sudden though strikes me. Where it came from, I have no idea. But I know that we're going to be all right. We won't die.

"We're gonna be fine!" I yell, taking out my blaster.

"_WHAT_? Stop sugar coatin' this!"

"_Pardon me_? How can you be quite certain? You are just like Master Luke, where you get your logic from I have no id – "

I switch him off. I have no need for that right now.

"I'm not sugar coating this! Just – shoot!"

He grudgingly takes out his blaster, firing off a few shots. Suddenly, miraculously, the engine that had stuck our ramp flew away from us, landing with a loud crash in the middle of the hangar bay. Two figures race up the still ramp, a third floating eerily behind them. Han rapidly hoists himself out of the wire pit, pressing a pad next to the ramp. It closes.

"Fixed it." he mutters.

But no one's paying attention, Luke and Mara are carrying my mother to a room. I – what?

"Luke – " I start as he emerges.

"Syrmé." He says, simply, and I quiet. "Your mother is hurt badly. But we really have to get off of this ship, we'll be safer in hyperspace."

I toss a helpless glance over at Han. His face is unreadable, except there's a tightness around the cheekbones that I really can't classify.

"Han." Luke says, looking at him pointedly. "Not now."

Without characteristic argument, he nods stiffly, making his way quickly to the cockpit. I hesitate.

"Go help him, Syrmé. Mara and I will take care of Leia."

I swallow, and glance over his shoulder into the room, where I can see my mother's small hands curled up into a fist.

Reluctantly, I concede, then make my way over to the copilot's chair. Just as I sit, the ship takes off into space.

We sit in uncomfortable silence, but one glance at his face tells me that he's gotten rid of being so guarded and I can see guilt clearly written all over his face.


	20. Chapter XX

**Author's Note: **Okay, peeps. Sorry this took _way_ too long, bu-ut I have an excuse. Since... last Wednesday, I have been at my aunt's (with no internet) and my grandparent's (retirement community. 'nuff said.). So I had no time to write, let alone update.But as soon as I got home and ate and watched a movie and checked my e-mail and read the fanfiction that was updated I started to write, and I just got into it. So it's a _bit_ longer than usual. :D

**GreatOne: **No, Han is not lying.:) But Leia's hurt. Yes. Badly, maybe. And I guess no Star Wars is Star Wars without Goldenrod. Even if he's annoying. :DD  
**Aowyn: **Ooooh, new reader. :DDDD Thank you for taking time to read this, and calling my plot entertaining. :)) Warms the heart.  
**pip: **Read and you'll find out. :)  
**Dovasary: **... oo; Too much caffeine for you... okay. - hands over peach-blueberry cobbler (whatever that is, I can't _believe_ you insulted my apple pie!) topped with vanilla ice cream, but keeps Harrison Ford for self - You're correct! - cheesey game show music -  
Okay then. To your _questions _(trust me, I _have_ thought of these things, I have a bit of a baackstory in my mind for reference. I'm just as much of a geek as you are!). ;) He did that "four - no, six years" thing, because he was a slave and really didn't have a very good method for keeping time, so he had to think about that one for a bit. So does that answer all the others consequently? He didn't lie, therefore having no reason to do something he didn't ever do, and he didn't see Leia in Syrmé and wonder. Well, maybe a bit, but not enough to brood on. One of your questions is answered in the update if you think of it hard enough. ;))  
Trust me. Everyone loves Han Solo (it's impossible not to). Lol, thank you:) I doubt I stole your muse, though. Mine's gettin' kinda lazy, so I'm beginning to have trouble writing these updates. But I do them, because I know how torturous it is to wait for an update. :D And I suppose I do them satisfactorily, and I love all of your reviews.  
**MarshaMarshaMarsha: **Wow. I'd be a bit of an idiot if I was 'utterly insulting' my own self, wouldn't I? But I appreciate the flame - it's my first! Or is this a flame? Maybe. I think you'd be less upset and a _lot_ more useful if you offered _constructive criticism_ instead of just insulting my summary. Which, I agree, is probably not the best summary in the world, but I haven't had a complaint yet, and many people here are teens who are aspiring writers, and _they_ don't seem to have a problem with it.  
I certainly am not generalizing. I never have thought that _all _teens run away every time they are confronted with challenges. I'm just saying that there are some that do. Most 'missing persons' that are teens are usually dismissed as runaways until... about a week (I honestly have no idea how long until they're thought to be kidnapped, wild guess there). Even that one that was missing for, like, nine months... Elizabeth (maybe, forgot her name)... I want to say Hurley, but I doubt that's it. Anyway. You know the one? Real religious family, abducted by the dude that painted her house once and thought he was the next Jesus? And it turns out that they were in the hill, like, above her house? Anyway, people are _still_ saying that she may have run away from the pressures of a religious family. I don't really believe that, but it's still out there.  
So think of it as sort of a joke. Humor. I wasn't saying that all teens run away when there's a bump in the road (am I repeating myself here?) - I was really simply playing on the view _on_ runaway and/or missing teens. But you didn't find it very funny, I guess.  
Oh well.  
**yellow-lily: **xDD Where did you go? But you caught up. And this is an important chapter. So... you're here for this installment, anyhow. :D

**

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**

**CHAPTER TWENTY **

It's not Han's fault. Not really. Contrary to what he implies, he actually has a sort of basic understanding of the Force. He believes that since my mom left while agitated, she wasn't able to use the Force to sense the ambush, therefore causing her injuries.

That may be true, and I feel really bad for putting partial blame on my mother in her current state, but the fact is is that she left. She let her emotions get a control of her (which happens to everyone, I'm not singling her out), and fled. When confronted with the basic flight-or-fight stimulus, she fought, got tired of it, then fled. She's human. So it's really not her fault either, it's her instincts' fault.

So there. I'm inclined to blame her ambushers, who are a good person all-around to blame, because they're our enemy so it's common to blame them for everything that goes wrong.

Take the ramp, for instance. _They_ shot the controls, which made the ramp malfunction. And if they weren't under that ship when shooting at us I wouldn't have made it explode and then the piece of engine wouldn't have trapped the ramp.

So there. It's all their fault. They're all to blame.

Ha.

Han's busily (and quietly) double-checking the coordinates that I entered, then pulls back the lever. We are now safely in the white-blue swirl off hyperspace.

"Han, quit blaming yourself."

He doesn't answer.

So, in an attempt to get him to talk (anything but this silence), I say, "Stop being so stupid, you godsdamn idiot! If I say it's not your fault, it's not your fault!"

He just shoots me a sharp look, then says nothing again.

How annoying. Now I just want to bang my head against the controls.

But I doubt that'll get him to talk. Dammit.

I stand, make a point to push past his chair, then storm down the straight hallway and into the captain's cabin, where my mother was now on her back, taking slow, deep breathes. Luke seems to have been attending to her, his hand laid softly against her forehead, but his eyes snap open as soon as I step in.

"What is it?"

"_He's_ being DIFFICULT." I say, accusingly pointing my finger back in the cockpit's direction.

"What's he doing?" Luke asks wearily.

"He's - " I hesitate. "He's not… he's not doing anything! He's just… sitting there! And he's giving me the _silent treatment_, gods know that I didn't do anything in this whole fiasco…" Luke sighs, as if he knew exactly what I was about to say. Which he probably did. Irritating.

"Syrmé, you just have to leave him alone. Let his sort out his thoughts. He's upset, you know that. He'll get… normal soon enough. And what did you expect me to do? Punish him for not talking?"

"Well, I was expecting you to _persuade_ him, you guys seem to have been friends - "

"Syrmé – I probably don't know anything about him. For all I know, he's a totally different person. It's been nearly sixteen years."

"Yes, but do you remember that holo-vid? Trust me, he's _exactly like that_."

"He probably is, but do you really think he's let you in very much?"

"Yes."

He looks startled, yet intrigued. "Oh? Why do you think so?"

"Han told me what happened when he left. And trust me. He's _not_ a bad person, he _hasn't_ changed, he _didn't_ abandon mom – he's got a very good reason for doing what he did."

Luke blinks. He sure as hell didn't expect this. "What?"

"I'm not going to tell you." Now that'll piss him off.

"_What_?"

"No. It's not my business. _You_ said that we had to let him sort out his thoughts, and he'll tell you and everyone when he wants to."

Luke sighs, then rubs his forehead tiredly. "I guess…" he says reluctantly, looking away from me and at my mother. "She's in a bad condition. She sort of was in shock when she left, and that weakened her Force sense to practically nothing. And all those Stunners…"

Oh Force. No. I shake my head. "She's not…"

"No, she won't die." I feel myself relax, and my knees go weak with relief. I swallow, putting a hand on the wall for support. "Luckily, Mara got there before she was carried away, practical medicine alone wouldn't have revived her very well – but I feel that if I help, she'll get better much more quickly, as well as rest and medicine. If we're lucky, she'll wake up within the week, and be almost normal within three days after that. …That's just my guess, though." He gives a rather sad glance past me, to the cockpit.

I flash a weak smile, one that I don't mean. "He'll be long gone by then, won't he?"

"I'll bet." He pauses thoughtfully. Then he opens his mouth, and closes it again shortly afterward. "When he left the first time… it was hard. We thought he was dead, and none of us could take that. I've always had a… feeling, that there was something not right, but I dismissed it; I didn't want it to be voiced aloud to Leia anyway. She was under a lot of stress as it was. She resigned as Senator because she was carrying you - " He stops abruptly. Then blinks.

I – what? I mean… what? Did he…?

Yes. He said that. I am…

Shit. Oh, holy bantha shit.

My fingers are tingling, my legs are numb, the color's draining from my face rapidly. I feel myself blink, then shake my head once or twice.

I must have heard him wrong.

"Wh – what did y-you say?"

"I – I mean…" He stops, looking down, rubbing a temple nervously. "Syrmé, I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to find out like this…"

No. I heard him correctly.

"_You mean I wasn't supposed to find out at all_!" I yell. Who cares if he's ten yards away? Who cares if I'm in a room with my comatose mother –

The woman who gave birth to me. The woman who _lied_ to me.

"Syrmé – now, calm down. We _were_ going to tell you - " he reaches his hand out to my arm, but I jerk it away, and his chair is suddenly pushed backwards as if he received a blow to the chest.

"Syrmé, _calm_ yourself." he orders sternly. Oh, don't worry. I know, _Uncle_ Luke. _Anger is of the Dark Side_, isn't it?

Who cares about the Dark Side? At the moment, I don't. I'm too busy feeling as if I was tricked into thinking that Hoth had a nice, warm summer resort and I arrived in a swimsuit.

"WHEN? When were you going to tell me! As _I lay dying_? Because I'm under the impression that mom had no intention of telling me AT ALL!"

"Syrmé - "

"LEAVE ME ALONE."

I turn, blindly. I feel the Dark Side. I feel the rage.

No. Breathe, Carr.

And I do. And I feel slightly calmer.

The walls are shaking, but I realize that's just my trembling. I throw a dirty look at Luke, and storm out, into an empty bunk room. After the door shuts, I kick it. But I don't feel the pain. I only feel the Dark Side. It clouds my vision, my mind.

_Breathe_, Carr.

Another breathe. Slightly calmer. Don't let the Dark Side take me. There are more important things than…

_Breathe_.

In, out. In, out.

Breathe, _Solo_.

* * *

- sings - Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me... gimme fifteen reviews and one for good luck. ;) 


	21. Chapter XXI

**Author's Note: **Yay! Twelve reviews! Thats a record for one chapter. :) Reward: a long(er) chapter.

**Neassa: **Lol, more like she was accidently told. :D  
**MissE: **Thank you:) The slave trader's son? ... Huh. Never thought about that. Maybe. I'll see what I can do. Not quite sure, though, because this story's getting long enough. xD I'll think about it for a while, but don't be too dissapointed if I decide not to do it.  
**K'bish: **Haha, thanks for finally reviewing:) Lol, thank you, I'm attached to my characters, its great to hear a compliment on them. :DDD  
**GreatOne: **Lol, he did. Sortah lost track of what he was sayin'. :D Yup, Leia's pretty good at that. Dunno why. You'll find out about Chewie in... a bit. Maybe next chapter. But I have to sleep a bit before I think about how the Big Conversation is going to go. - is 3 AM, has a knack of writing in the early morning - Lol, I don't worry about Marsha. Its not a big deal; she was insulting the summary, not the story. Not like I care about that. :D  
**ccp: **Thank you!  
**anna: **I suppose you'll have to keep reading!  
**Dovasary: **Lol, he did. Poor Lukie boy probably got a big bad bruise on his forehead from banging it against the wall so many times. Oh, come on, not to LL - she goes much longer (but her chapters are wa-ay bigger, and I love 'em) - and I was in SC in a RETIREMENT COMMUNITY. Stupid grandparents.--; Lol, Han giving birthday spankings is a nice gift. :) But I'll stop talking now. Or typing. Or whatever.  
**Crazy1 (C):**Lol, thank you. Buuuut, you'll have to keep readingtill next chapter for the Big Conversation.  
**Jaina Solo Potter: **Thank you! Here's another update!  
**leias girl: **Thanks! Yeah, I didn't want Luke to find out so early, and it didn't feel right for Syrmé togo blabbing his buisness to everyone. That'd something Janson would do in _NQLL_. And thanks, I liked that little touch I did. - is not modest at all-  
**pip: **Thanks a bunch!  
**High Admiral Thorin: **Thanks! I'm glad you started to read it, and that you reviewed it, too. Started up a whole account! Wow, you could have always left an anonymous review. :) But thanks again!

**

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**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE **

I can't face him, I'm having trouble staying in the same room with him, and I sure as hell can't talk to him.

For the past week, _he_ has been here. And it's been killing me. It's keeping me up at night, and it's waking me up every few rare hours of sleep.

He's noticed, definitely. And he's retaliated with stony silence and expert use of ignoring. Which makes it that much easier for me, at least he's not nagging me and following me around everywhere, whining.

When we arrived last week, a few hours after escaping the slave barge (an event that feels like years ago), I overheard (eavesdropped on) this conversation between Uncle Luke and him:

"_What d'you mean? You can't just pick up and leave!"_

"_Watch me." _

"_Wh – what? No. Stop. Stop! Han, don't leave! There are things left to be said!"_

"_So?"_

"_So? Aren't you interested _at all_ in hearing what Leia has to say?"_

"_Honestly, I don't give a damn what Her Highness has to say."_

"_Please. Stay. For a week, I promise. You can both explain your… reasons; from what Syrmé tells me - "_

"_Oh, I see, now she's sproutin' my secrets?"_

"_She only told me that you had a good reason."_

"_Huh. I thought she turned mute."_

"_What?"_

"_Don't tell me that you didn't notice with all that Jedi-crap that you have. She was avoidin' me the rest of the flight after all that fightin' you two were doing down the hall."_

"_You… ah… heard that?"_

"_It was so loud I'm pretty sure _Leia_ heard that. What'd you not tell her?"_

"_Maybe you'll find out if you stay until Leia gets better."_

"_No."_

"_Stop being so stubborn."_

"_No."_

"_What kept you from leaving Hoth?"_

(Here there was stony silence.)

_"Exactly. Just a week. That's all I ask."_

"…"

"_Please?"_

"_Fine." _

So he's been staying in my house for the past week, in one of the three guest bedrooms.

Also turns out that since I've left, Mom and Leo (that feels so weird, a man I used to call 'dad') got separated: seems that Mom took to heart about her living a better life when being freed from the clutches of a pointless marriage. So now he's living with that blonde chick, and he's visited once. We had a talk. He knew all about this, too, and had offered to help her.

The rumors about their divorce hadn't been confirmed yet, but media is everywhere. It's annoying. Funny, because my mom hasn't been a Senator for sixteen years, she's just been unofficially helping the President.

Back to now, I could tell Han is getting ready to leave. It's been seven days and mom hasn't woken yet; Luke only asked for a week, and he's being held tightly to his word (possibly down to the minute, but I wouldn't know). So nothing's really been resolved. Not even between Han and I.

Funny how the man's my father and I can't seem to call him that. It's surreal when I think about him being in love with my mother. But that was in the past. If he still feels that way now, I, again, wouldn't know, because I'm refraining from even looking at him.

It all makes sense now, though. Nearly everything. That one time I meditated on the charter (_one time_; pathetic), the whole thing makes utter sense. Mom's stubborn reservation about him. My comfort around him - I usually don't take well to strangers old enough to be my father (Haha. Get it?), especially on Coruscant. I suppose I really didn't take to him so well at first after all, but I swear that I'm usually more polite.

After a sigh and a glance outside, I heave myself out of my bed and stretch my limbs, then go to my bathroom and absently run a brush through my hair, failing to remember to tie it behind my neck. Without bothering to change out of my pajamas (a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top), I go downstairs, past Luke and Mara's bedroom that they had stayed in for the past week, and into the kitchen. As I start to breakfast on a piece of fruit without really tasting it, I glance out the window and to the front yard.

Han and Luke are outside, engaged in what is clearly a heated argument. From what I observe, Luke's asking him to wait a little more while Han is blatantly refusing.

I haven't looked at him for so long since I've found out he was my father. After watching him argue with Luke at a distance, it's easy to vision him as that man in the holo arguing with my mother about giant nerf slippers. I wonder how I couldn't have figured out before.

Then again, the holo was fuzzy and dusty. And its not like I was _looking _for Han Solo; he was dead then.

I refocus my eyes on my faint reflection in the window, and study my face. My mother's eyes, no doubt about that. I scrutinize myself for a moment, then focus back on Han, now jabbing his finger into Luke's chest.

Yep. That's kinda obvious, too.

A faint memory comes back to me, so fuzzy and blurry that I was either drugged or half-conscious (or it's all my imagination) when it was said:

"_Guy next to her was doin' more damage, intil she went down. Reckon 'e's 'er dad?" _

(I'm supposing this was somewhere on the slave barge, but it means that our resemblance was somewhat obvious to other people, too.)

Suddenly, all my senses are on alert. There's a weak Force vibe coming from my mother's room.

She's awake.

Without a second thought, I tear up the stairs, wheel around the corner, and barge into her room, just as her eyes start to flicker open.

"…Syrmé."

I lower myself in a much-used chair by her bed, suddenly feeling my eyes start to burn and my vision blur.

She's awake.

I turn my head away from her, determined not to let her see tears. But it's too late. She weakly (yet strongly, somehow) uses one finger to turn my chin.

"Baby, I'm fine. Just a little Stun."

"Mom," I start, after a breath so my voice wouldn't choke. "You were out for a week."

"I… what?" she glances around, realizing she was back on Yavin. "Oh. No one died, right?"

She seems completely unconcerned that she's practically been in a coma.

"…Everyone's fine."

"Good. Well, I'm okay now." she smiles weakly. "Don't worry, I'm not old enough to die. Yet."

I shrug, then decide to change the subject.

"…Dad's here." I struggled to say the first word.

"Is he? What's he doing here?"

Let's see how long it takes her to catch on…

"Waiting for you to wake up."

"Oh. That's nice of him."

"He's leaving now. Do you want me to go get him?"

She seems to sense my reserve, the fact that I'm upset. And not about her waking up, either.

"No, that's okay." she waves a hand dismissively. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, I suppose." She studies me for a moment. "Did Luke tell you…?"

"Yes."

She laid her small hand on my arm, smiling uncertainly and sympathetically, as if I was going to start yelling. "…I'm sorry I couldn't tell you myself, hun. We just didn't have time in those few minutes on Mot'n's barge - "

"But you _did_ have plenty of time to tell me in these past fifteen years. …But you seem to have failed to do that as well."

She removes her hand from my arm, frowning at me.

"What are you…?"

Then I watch the horror dawn onto her face.

I swallow, struggling to not let my eyes water again.

"Syrmé - "

"I know, _you would have eventually told me_." I mock Luke's voice.

"No – please." she wipes at an eye. "Syrmé – I was scared. And weak. I… I couldn't - " she swipes a finger under both eyes.

Then I understand. I'm still mad as hell at her for lying, but I understand. She's fearless, yet there are some parts of her life where she's as cowardly as a baby Jawa in the middle of a hostile Tusken camp. And I'm one of those parts.

But we don't have time to talk now.

"He's leaving now." I repeat.

She stops stuttering, then looks at me like she couldn't believe it for a second, then smiles. "Take me to him."

"I'll go get him - "

"No. Help me up, Syrmé."

I sigh. "I'll just - "

"No. I'm going to him. Now help me."

Well, whatever the sickly woman wants, I guess…

I stand, then hold out an arm that she grips, dragging her legs under the covers until her bare feet rest against the floor. Then, leaning on me, I sense her drawing power and energy from the Force around her, she stands up, taking a shaky yet firm step in front of her.

_I can hold him for a few more minutes._

Luke's voice bursts clearly into my head, making me realize that he had sensed my mother waking up as well. I send an affirming message to him, then return to help my mother.

It takes about a minute to get from the side of her bed to the top of the stairs, and then another two down the stairs. Thirty seconds from the foot of the stairs we are at the door, and I open it, stepping onto the porch.

Luke seems to have been barely retaining Han, probably trying to re-argue old points. Han, clearly, is pissed off. His back is turned; Luke was probably attempting to block his way. Then I glance at my mother for a moment, before she takes two more steps and I help lower her into a hover-chair.

Then, with powers unknown, she manages to stop everything with two syllables:

"Flyboy."


	22. Chapter XXII

**Author's Note: **This chapter took so goddamn long to write.

**GreatOne: **I couldn't just let him leave, could I? (Actually, I could, and I was about to but I didn't feel like it. xD) Syrmé and Luke are leaving thm alone at this point -- but you'll see. :)  
**K'bish: **xD Look - I updated the next day! So cliffhanger is resolved.  
**Dovasary: **Oh, don't worry, I have something good in mind. I've been working on it since July, jotting down the tentative plot and such. I hope you'll like it, but I'm gonnah have practically no time to write next year. x.x And I'll read your new story -- but don't worry, my muse sometimes goes on strike, too. :) - head is currently four times larger than before - xDDD  
**KnightedRogue: **:)) Thank you! And I think you were right. x.x - sigh - But oh well. :D  
**doreenthatshot: **Thank you - and now here's a quick update. :D  
**Crazy1: **Yes, that spelling's right. :) See? I didn't take too long, did I?  
**pip: **Thanks - I liked that spot for the nick, too. :D  
**yellow-lily: **Lol, thanks, what part of Maryland? Because I'm here as well to visit my mom.

**

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**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO **

Han stops threatening in mid-sentence, turning away from a much-relieved Luke. His eyes settle upon my mother, sitting weakly and defiantly in a porch chair. She's already got all of her defenses up, with a high chin, ruler-straight back, hard eyes, and a perked eyebrow.

Han turns fully toward her, with an eerily similar expression.

"Highnessness." he replies stiffly.

Luke takes these three syllables as his cue to leave – and to drag me inside with him.

"Wh – hey - " I stutter as he firmly grips my upper arm and pulls me inside, letting the door slide shut. "I wanted to see that!" I complain.

"This is their business, they don't have to hold a show for us."

"Why not?"

"Because." he answers uselessly. "Now, I'm going to my room. Don't disturb them – and remember – don't eavesdrop." I see a shadow of a grin appear on his face, along with the slightest trace of a wink. I watch him with wry amusement as he hurries his way back to his room, and I hear the door lock after him.

Well…

I make my way to the living room, settle myself on the couch, and close my eyes, falling into deep relaxation. In record time, I feel my mind slip into nothingness as the Force takes over every little crevice of my brain. Then an image bursts in clearly, just an image and sounds, nothing else. No words, no thoughts. Soon I focus and draw closer to two figures facing each other rather awkwardly, one staring up at the other on a chair in the porch. The image settles itself in a place near the chair, in full view of what was about to go on.

* * *

"You're awake," he says.

"Apparently." A pause. "And you haven't left."

"Only because your brother practic'ly got on his hands and knees to beg me to stay an extra week."

"I see. I'm surprised, Han, that you kept true to your word."

"Since when haven't I?" he asks, sneering.

"Oh, don't you get me started." she answers through clenched teeth. "I'm not in the mood for mind games with you, Solo."

"Oh, we're resortin' to Solo now, Princess?"

"Considering that it's _been a while_ and I _barely know you_… yes."

At this he walks up three steps to confront her more closely, a scowl on his face as he moodily leans against the edge of a chair.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that _tiny _part. Hey, while we're at it, let's catch up on what we missed - " he starts with mock enthusiasm. "Hmm, you first. What happened these past sixteen years? Married anybody? Have any babies?"

"Ha." she states with sarcasm. "Oh, yes, I've always _loved_ your humor. Oh, for the record, I'm divorced."

"Ooh. _Goody_."

"Listen." If she could, she'd be standing. "You have _no right whatsoever _to walk in on my life - "

"Hey, _whose_ daughter paid twenty-six hundred credits for a flight away from home?"

This stops her, dumbfounded. "_You charged twenty-six hundred for a charter?_ I see that your _greed_ remains."

"Hey – I got seventeen from your brother and Kenobi. The one with your daughter was a generous day."

"_Of course_, must have slipped my mind."

"Anyhow, Worship, we really have nothin' to say to each other. So I should just leave."

"Maybe you should."

"Then I will."

"Fine. But one question."

This stops him midstep away from her, and he turns to glare.

"What."

"Can you just tell me why you left?"

"I didn't godsdamn leave!" he yells, frustrated, causing her to lean backwards a few inches in surprise. But she quickly recovers.

"What do you mean, _you didn't leave_? You did leave! You… left! For _sixteen years_, you've been alive - "

"Oh, I see, now that I'm alive you're all worried."

"You – uugh!" she's at a loss for words, and her lips purse and she leans forward. "If I could slap you now, I so would."

He makes the dire mistake of leaning forward as well and whispering for effect. "There are many things you would do right now if you could." he leers, earning a hard slap.

"For _three years_, Han." she continues, otherwise ignoring his last comment. "_Three years_ we searched endlessly. Don't you _dare_ say a thing about me not worrying, because I was dying that whole time."

He simply snorts, as if he doesn't believe it or he's too stubborn to believe it.

"And where were you? Probably in some bottom-level whorehouse on Coruscant!" she spits nastily.

This seems to strike a nerve. "Oh yeah, because Han Solo is just some low ass that can't hold a commitment and runs away from every responsibility, isn't he? Gods forbid he has an actual legitimate reason for disappearin'!"

"Oh, I know, you visited your friends and got a _little_ sidetracked, huh?"

"_I didn't visit 'em at all_!"

"That makes it better?"

"Look, you ask why I left, then you can't even let me finish a fuckin' sentence."

She immediately bristles, but invites him to continue by raising both of her eyebrows.

"_Like I was saying_, I never _got_ to their place. The _Falcon_ malfunctioned - " She snorts derisively, which stops him angrily. "Are you done?" he sneers. She does a little nod/shrug, and he invites himself to sit in the chair across from her. "Alright. It malfunctioned by Dantooine, so we stopped there to repair it. It's practically isolated there, so Chewie and I thought it was fine. 'Bout a day later, we were encountered by - " then he hesitates. She swallows then nods to tell him to keep going. This isn't what she'd expected. "By slavers. They took Chewie and I, eventually they sold us to - " he pauses as if trying to remember something. "Ge… Geonosis. Six years later, with others, we escaped." he stops for a second. "I forced Chewie to go back to Kashyyk." he snorted humorlessly. "That took a while, but he 'ventually agreed, on the term that I visit frequently."

"… But you still didn't come back."

He glances up at her angrily. "I did, but guess what? You were married with a kid. What would you've done?" she shrugs, then suddenly looks nervous, biting her lip and looking to the right, rubbing her hands on her knees. He was studying her with a small glare on his face. "And now _you_ don't have a good reason for marrying him, do you?"

Her eyes snap back to him furiously. "I see, now I'm a slut?"

"I'm just goin' by what I saw. Awfully quick time after I was gone to get married and pregnant - "

"Listen to me, Han!" she almost shouts at him, jabbing a finger right under his throat. "I'm a political figurehead." She states more quietly. "The press would have chewed her out as a bastard and I as a slut if I wasn't married while pregnant with Syrmé. I did what I _had_ to do."

"So you had sex with Carr _then_ you got married. Oh. That makes it so much better."

"I didn't have sex with Leo at all!"

This shocks him, and she waits nervously for his revelation. The she's taken aback as he glares at her again. "Then who's the father?"

She groans, burying her head in her hands. Force, this man's thick when he wants to be. Then she looks again at him pointedly.

The comprehension dawns clearly on his face, and his mouth drops open a bit.

"… Me?" She gives the slightest nod. "Are you serious?" his face is not unlike the one he wore when Leia first told him Luke's her brother. Then he looks at her. "Does she…"

"Know? Yes. Luke told her. Rather, let slip."

He snorts. "She didn't take it too well." He mutters.

"She was surprised. She had no idea what to think of it. She was mad at me, above all else."

"Yeah, she didn't talk to me all week."

"She needed time."

"Hell…" he mutters, rubbing his forehead. He glances up at her, as if she might jump up and shout, 'JUST KIDDING!' But she doesn't.

"So you and Carr…"

"No. Never. We're just friends; he had a girlfriend, who he's marrying now." she answers, with a coy smile playing across her face.

"Oh." he grunts. "So… this was just a sixteen-year mix up?"

"Unfortunately." she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Come here."

He raises his eyebrows teasingly. "Why?"

"Flyboy," she growls. "Just do it."

"'S that an order, Your Worship?"

"Yes."

With his lopsided smile on, he leans forward a tiny bit. She reaches outward, still weak, with one hand, and they exchange glances one last time before their lips meet, and her fingers start to push through his hair. After several moments, they finally part, each breathing slightly heavier then before.

Then they smile.

* * *

So? Was that okay? - took a half hour writing the last five sentences - x.x


	23. Chapter XXIII

**GreatOne: **:) Yup. A sixteen-year mix-up. That kinda sucks. xDD But yes, they kissed. :DDD  
**Crazy1: **Thank you:)  
**KnightedRogue: **Lol, Lukie can't be so serious all the time. Ooh, thank you. I'm an avid cusser in the real world, so I'm not able to leave it out of my writing. But in the movies Han doesn't have turrets - so I try not to write him like that. :) Thank you:D  
**Dovasary: **Awws... - hands tissue - LOL:)) - blush - Ughh, I'm taking Chemistry next year. But not AP - yay! It has to be better than biology though, right:D Heh, see ya. :)  
**word junky: **Thanks:) - presents next installment -  
**pip: **Oh, don't worry. I won't have anyone die. ;) xDD  
**dm1: **Thanks! I'm glad you liked 'em, I was so anxious about what people thought about them. :DD  
**purple bunny: **Lol! I dunno.  
**Culf: **Um. xD Well, tell me if this chapter satisfies you...? I hope so. :)  
**yellow-lily: **Lol. I'm down in Indian Head. Dunno if you know where that is, but it's pretty close to D.C.  
**Eliza Elvenstar: **Do you? Aw, thank you:) Haha, I try. I actually have not read _any_ of the EU. Except two books on Obi-Wan five years ago. But thanks, I hear that many people... don't like them too much. xD But I'll read 'em anyways. Eventually. But thanks, I love gushing. It makes me warm and fuzzy. xDD Thanks again!

**

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**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE **

Then my eyes spring open.

Along with a sense of extreme accomplishment, I feel a giddiness that must be coming from my mom.

_Finally_.

Within three seconds, I'm off my chair and at the door, practically falling against the touch pad in my haste. As I stumble out, I see Luke hurry out of his room, skidding to a stop just short of the opposite wall. Our eyes meet, and we both know that the other had seen (eavesdropped, rather).

Like a pair of excited children, we both hurry to the front door, stopped and standing unnaturally erect just as it hisses open.

I see my mother back out, involved in some playful banter with Han (or my father. It's still kind of tough to think of him that way, but I suppose that I'm going to have to start) about what I could only presume to be an experience they shared before I was born. She's leading him lightly by the hand, but stops talking and turns around, eyeing the pair of us with exasperation.

"You listened in, didn't you?" she accused.

"Of course not." Luke countered, without missing a beat. "We're just waiting to see how you guys… made out."

I repress a snigger.

My mother rolls her eyes, not believing a word of it. Neither, clearly, does Han, as he starts grumbling about having 'no damn privacy in a house of Force worshippers'.

I meet eyes with him, and suddenly the light atmosphere turns heavily awkward.

"…So." He says to me. I scratch at my ear, looking somewhere over his left shoulder.

"Um. Yeah." I respond.

A seemingly pointless conversation with no semblance to any form of intelligence, but between… _my father_ and I…

Well, we've reached an acknowledgement of our new and strange relationship.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the tension was gone, my mother's face lighting up in a smile I've rarely seen before. Happiness and affection danced across her eyes as she gazed up at him, pulling his face down into a second kiss.

Needless to say, I avert my eyes. Because seeing my mother all over someone might take some getting used to.

**EPILOUGE**

My mother and father took no time at all in getting engaged and announcing it to the world. Or galaxy. Of course, throughout all this, I find out that quite a few people were in on the 'secret'. Mon Mothma, the whole Rouge Squadron, most of the old Alliance generals (that are still alive, that is)… well, you get the picture.

Predictably, the press is having a field month. So now the whole galaxy and beyond knows. How they seem to know the _whole_ story is beyond me. Surprisingly, it was quite accurate at first, but then after a week it all got so twisted I didn't know _what_ I was reading. One tabloid claims that my mother held my father as a concubine, chaining him to her bed with a jeweled collar, and only just now let him go (…don't ask).

But they don't care. They just seem overjoyed that the other's not dead or happily married. And they're eager to make up for lost time. Again, don't ask. I'm still too traumatized to talk about it.

One pinprick of light through all this chaos is the upcoming wedding in one month. I'm just glad that mom isn't the kind of person to dress her bridesmaids in mint green.

Well, maybe the wedding planning is chaotic too, with all these strangers coming in and out of the house and the press hovering nervously outside and behind bushes, clutching at their cameras and getting scared by a very amused Aunt Mara.

Well, at least mom can work on something besides politics.

It was confirmed that the Ewoks are all safe and back on Endor. Of course, some died in the attack and confinement – but our friend Warrick is all right, and the majority went unscathed. I know that my father was relieved, even though he's still going on about them painting 'cave drawings' on his beloved _Falcon _(who was _Ruth_, but is now back here with us. The day after the sixteen-year misunderstanding was solved he went and got it with my mother, who insisted on going with him lest he gets kidnapped again).

Another thing: we got a strange visit the other day. A gigantic Wookiee named Chewbacca with his whole family for the wedding. I admit, his sheer size shocked me at first (I've never met a Wookiee before), but he's quite amiable and gentle. After warming up to him, my smaller cousins are having a blast just hanging on him while he simply walks around. And I'm getting a good handle on this Wookiee language, too, partly thanks to the Force, mostly to Han (dad.)

Dada nd I... well, we've talked. We both feel sort of strange about it, which is obvious because I still think of him as 'Han' occasionally. And when I'm really tired, even 'Tyl'. But we're giving eachother a little space, its a bit awkward. But seeing as we've known eachother for a few weeks, its better than if he'd had just showed up on thedoorstep. I know him,I know how he's like, and he knows me. So we really just have to move past the 'buddy' stage, and start acting like we're related. But I think I can do it.In time,I'll learn how to love him as my father.

Of all the billions of pilots in the galaxy, and of the millions on Coruscant alone, I somehow managed to pin the one and only Han Solo, the dead man who's now my father (and very much alive, as well). While he calls it luck, I think its proof that a greater Force is in the galaxy.

A life changing experience, getting knocked over by a man named Tyl Olos.

**THE END**

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Sorry that took so long x.x Internet wasn't working. I was seriously dying. 

Well, there's the end. I'm glad a lot of you enjoyed it, all your reviews really kept me going when I had absolutely no muse at all. :D By the way, the epilogue is roughly around three weeks after… the first part. oo;

Oh, and somewhere in this chapter is a reference to GreatOne's _Evil Dynasty_ (sorry, just had to use it, I felt it was perfect right there. Here. Here's a © to it. :)).

Well, you know I love you all. Every single review made me beam, and a few made me laugh (in glee and/or hilarity – coughdovasarycough - ;D) .

Oh, I'm in the process of cooking something up right now – I've been working on it for a while, but I have no idea when I'll have time to write – I have a busy schedule next school year, with softball (hopefully) and AP Euro and Algebra II Honors. So there's my excuse.

Glowing reviews are welcomed with the smell of fudge cake. But anything that you would like me to answer should be sent to my e-mail because no more chapters will come up for me to respond to anything. :)

- dances away to do up Princess Leia buns -


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